The Boy With No Name
by DarkQuartz
Summary: A child is raised in the deepest pits of Azkaban by dementors when the prophecy goes unheard and Dumbeldore falls to Voldemort. Very Dark Harry. Story contains gore, torture, and delves into questionable morals where evil is acceptable. Rated MA.
1. The Birth of the New World

Warning: This story has torture, pain, gore, and a lot of messed up situations. Don't read it if you have a weak mind or stomach, or if you find things like abuse and mind games offensive. This story will be a very dark one and I won't be holding back.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter - last I checked Rowling was not my last name. I do thank the lovely writer for allowing us to play in her sandbox, though.

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Chapter 1 - The Birth of the New World.

Wizards and witches all over Britain kept their doors locked tight this New Year's Eve and nobody had a Yule log burning in their hearth. Dinner was meager; just enough to sustain their bodies while they avoided looking into their family's eyes, not wanting to see their own hollow expressions reflecting back at them. There was no longer any hope, and many had stopped subscribing to the news since they didn't want to read who had been killed the prior night.

It was 1980 and the wizarding world was on the brink of being taken over. Their last beacon of hope, Albus Dumbledore, who had taken down the dark lord Grindelwald, had fallen to Lord Voldemort's wand just a week prior on Christmas day itself while defending Hogwarts. His body had been ripped apart by his rabid followers, and the halls of the school had been decorated with the fallen hero's entrails; the act made possible using duplication spells.

Dumbledore's head was used to crown the tree, the once bright blue twinkling eyes were now blank and filmy as they looked over the Great Hall from their tall perch. The Dark Lord had called the children in to feast with his loyal followers at the four tables and they were forced to attend while being told by Bellatrix Lestrange and Abraxas Malfoy that they were being bestowed with a great honor. The silent threat was understood that if they cried or tried to stand up to the cruel wizard that was sitting in the throne where the headmaster's chair had once been, they would also become part of the decorations.

Minerva Mcgonagall fought until her bitter end much as Hagrid had. The head of the Gryffindor house was finally stopped with several stunners when she was surrounded by a group of death eaters, but the half giant took several dark curses to bring him to his knees so that Macnair could finish him off with an axe to stop him from directing the hippogriffs and the thestrals who had been tearing into the Dark Army's own creatures. Though other teachers had fought to keep the children safe, those two firmly stood by the light's side so they were shown no mercy. Their heads ended up adorning the walls on both sides of the great hall's door with mistletoe hung above the heads in a mockery of the holiday.

The rest of the teachers were warned that they may keep their jobs provided that they start a new curriculum, and were informed that to teach otherwise would lead to a 're-education' class on their first offense which would be the only warning they would get before being sent to prison. Some, like Professor Quirrell with muggle studies accepted the terms happily being dark sympathizers, but a few gentle souls like Professor Sprout opted to retire instead. Those that chose to leave their position at the school were given permission to do so, but they were required to have tracking charms places upon them so that there would be no insurrection.

Children wrote home that night to inform their families and friends what the Dark Lord had done. Further, they passed on the required message that with the ministry now under Lord Voldemort's command and Hogwarts fully conquered, any more rebels that refused the new order would be sent to Azkaban. Any information on Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix would be rewarded with galleons and positions within the new government, and all muggle borns were now required to register themselves at the Ministry.

The tear stained letters broke the last of the people's hopes. The members in Dumbledore's Order were slowly slaughtered off or sent to Azkaban. Trelawney's prediction went unheard in the year 1980, and by the time the Potter rebels were found, it was May. James Potter perished trying to defend his pregnant wife during an Order meeting with those in the original group that had remained after Dumbledore's death to keep fighting, and Lily Potter was taken prisoner to be tried at the new tribunal. A few, like Alastor Moody, managed to escape being caught or killed by not being present, but most were sent straight to Azkaban except for a few who were kept in the ministry cells for interrogation to make sure there were no other hidden plots.

The Ministry of Magic had been reformed by that point. It was renamed to Colubra and there were many department changes. The DMLE's misuse of muggle artifacts was removed completely and a new sub-department of muggle infiltration was created instead. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes that handled the Statute of Secrecy on level three was demolished, and each department further up was brought down a level for Lord Voldemort to take over the entire seventh floor. The levels above for the Atrium, DoM, and the courtrooms were kept the same though the department of mysteries was promised a larger budget if they could create useful artifacts that could detect muggle borns at birth or things that only target muggles to kill them off.

All muggle borns were removed from Colubra and only the most talented and well connected half bloods were allowed to keep their positions though they had to have wizarding parents at the very least. The firing process was not easy on those witches and wizards, they were notified not through messages, but from Death Eaters apprehending them halfway through their shifts for a spot of fun torture. Those that tried to fight back were killed off, and their bodies were stuffed like prized hunting trophies to adorn the atrium with as an example for a short period. The muggle borns who had to enter the building to register their blood status were required to read the plaques placed at the base of each victim that explained in detail how they died to keep them cowed.

When the time for Lily Potter's trial came, a month had gone by under heaving questioning with veritaserum and she could barely walk with how heavily pregnant she was as she was pushed into the court chambers. Her arms and legs were almost twigs and her cheeks were hollowed out from being fed so little, but a fierce fire still burned in her emerald eyes as she kept her thin arms wrapped protectively around her belly. Though she wore rags and her hair was matted from weeks of neglect, she still held her head up proudly even as she was shoved into the middle of the stone floor where people from the seats set along the walls up higher could look down at those on trial.

Her glare faltered, however, when her green eyes met red slitted ones. The Dark Lord was sitting behind the Chief Warlock's podium - the seat that Albus Dumbledore had once sat in.

Voldemort had attended the session to see the last of his foes fall, and he smirked inwardly when she broke her defiant stare. She still had spirit in her and that was good; it would bring him greater pleasure to break her today.

He stayed silent while keeping his eyes on her throughout the proceeding, his face giving away nothing of his thoughts. However the intensity of the sadistic gleam in the ruby depths unnerved even his followers, and it made them wonder how Lily Potter could bear her trial without breaking under that look.

Nobody could call the farce an actual trial, but then again, nobody could deny the criminal's guilt. Prior to the takeover, her actions could have been called heroic, but now it was a mudblood trying to promote mayhem during the birth of a new rule. She proudly declared herself not guilty by the old laws; those judging her declared her guilty by the new laws. However, when sentencing was about to be declared, everyone froze at the sound of the Dark Lord clearing his throat.

"This calls for a special punishment due to her physical circumstance," he said in a low silky voice that was heard by all. It was followed with a cold smile that made several shiver with fear, while Lily held her swollen belly tighter as she glared up at him though her false bravado, then wavered with her own shudder. "Would any deny me my rights to declare her sentence?"

The politely worded question was met with silence; nobody wanted to intervene. A couple of people sent pitying looks at the dirty mudblood that stood alone, but they consoled themselves with reminders that she was at fault for having fought for the losing side. Others looked away, but a good portion watched hungrily, eager to see the drama carry on.

"Very well then," he said, sounding pleased as he folded his long white fingers together on the podium in front of him."Lily Janice Potter née Evans, you have been declared guilty of being a terrorist and a rebel by the new laws. You have also been found guilty of being an unregistered muggle born, for obstruction of justice, for resisting arrest, and for continuing to socialize with muggles even after the recent laws passed. You have been defiant of the new regime despite the government-"

"You MONSTER!" she screamed, causing a few chuckles to ring out among the higher tiers. "You call this a government?! You're nothing but a bastard, Tom Riddle! A -"

A red light from a guard shot out to effectively immobilize her and nobody dared to look in their Lord's direction; afraid of attracting his attention. Yet, his quietly hissed laughter drew their eyes towards him, but by the time they saw him, his eyes had focused on the guard that had stunned the witch and his wand was pointed at the young man.

" _Crucio,_ " he hissed out coldly, and the chamber echoed out with the wizard's screams of pain for several long minutes before he stopped the curse. "Did you think I could not take care of her myself? Wake her."

The guard scrambled to a crawling position while nodding vehemently at the command, and he shakily muttered _Rennervate_ to wake her up. Lily shakily got to her feet and stumbled back a few steps, stunned at how easily Voldemort tortured even his own loyal people.

"Please," she began before her eyes dropped to the belly she was still holding. She was willing to beg for her unborn baby. "Please… my baby is innocent. He only has one month left m-My Lord." She had to sob out the title, but for Harry, she would do anything. He was all that she had left since the rest of the Order was pretty much gone. "I will do anything you want, if you will let him live."

"Ah, Lily," Voldemort purred seductively just to see her eyes jerk up to meet his once again in fear, feeling slight disappointment that it only took speaking her name to get that reaction. "As if I'd want to use a dirty and malnourished mudblood like that."

She flinched at the reminder of how grimy and disgusting she was while mocking laughter reigned down from above, but it cut off as soon as he raised a hand for silence.

"Your punishment will proceed," he stated coldly as he pointed his wand at her to cast a parseltongue spell.

A sickly green smokey ring shot out at her before she could dodge then dissipated without any discernable effects. When she looked back up at him in confusion, because she had been expecting pain, the smug look in his eyes made her pale. "W-what did you do?" she stuttered out as she looked back down at her belly and started to rub it to make sure that her baby was okay.

"I've granted your request for your baby to live," he declared before leaning forward to smile down at her. "You, however, will not be allowed to give birth. He will continue to grow in your womb like the parasitic leech that he is, and when he gets large enough, he will rip his way out. I will then have him raised as a killer, and he will grow up knowing that he killed his own mother in the worst way possible."

Lily collapsed down to her knees and screamed out her anguish - that was not a life for any living creature to live, let alone her own son. She would have preferred for them both to die, and now she hated herself for causing this to happen to her child. He would hate himself and fall prey to Voldemort and she would not be alive to protect him.

She began screaming out vile profanities to the heartless monster as the guards came down to grab her arms, his declaration of sending her to Azkaban having been missed, and her voice was silenced with a sharp blow to the head that knocked her unconscious. The last thing she heard was the despotic wizard's cruel laughter that was joined by the rest of the dark wizards that he commanded.

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A/N: Due to my health and eye problems, I cannot promise consistency in updates. I do love writing this story, though, it has been floating around in my head for a while and I have kind of a story board written for it which is the first time I've attempted at making one! Normally I go with what comes to me. I do have plans to get back to the Philosopher's stone eventually, but I've lost interest in writing that for now since I lost the last chapter because my fiance reset the internet as I hit the 'submit' button. Now I write all my chapters in docs rather than on FFnet so that won't happen again!

If you would like to leave reviews with critiques, those are always welcome! I like critique on my writing style and story ideas! Regular flaming is not welcome, and if you don't like the story, don't read it. There are warnings posted in it, so there's no excuse to come along and troll someone's hard work just because it makes you feel uncomfortable. Some people enjoy dark stories like these, so go white knight a real cause by joining groups that stop animal cruelty or other things like that rather than insulting fictional writing that hurts nobody on the internet. If you flame me, I'll laugh and keep writing anyway.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Chapter 1 finally edited on 6/27/17. Thank you, Faelwyn!


	2. Deal With the Devil

Chapter 2 - Deal With the Devil

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Lily panted with pain and she curled up tightly around her swollen belly. She had long since acclimated to the smell of the dirty rags she was lying on; the only thing that protected her from the cold stone floor of her cell. Another low moan of pain escaped out of her lips and she could feel her abdomen rippling as she held it tightly.

" _Please forgive me,_ " she groaned out hoarsely to the life inside her. " _Harry.. Don't hate me. Mommy didn't mean it earlier, she promises. She loves you, she doesn't regret..._ "

Another groan was ripped out of her when a stronger labor pain made her curl up tighter, then she began to sob with relief since it appeared that her body was taking another break in between contractions.

How long had it been now? As she sobbed outwardly, inwardly her mind was gathering up the scattered information that was secreted about - plans she had been slowly forming since she had been thrown in here after the trial. She had to work quickly and ignore her physical response to being in labor for so long since the contractions could begin again in five minutes.

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The shock and trauma of the past month had caused a lot of stress on her body, and she had woken up in the cell with heavy cramps and bleeding. James dead, Sirius injured or dead, Peter the traitor that had given out the information on where they were going to hold the meeting, and Remus had disappeared long ago due to the suspicions that he had been the one passing on information. Meeting Voldemort was the last straw for her and her body had tried to miscarriage her baby.

An older healer alerted by the guards that reminded Lily of a nun had come the following day, a stern faced woman with a name tag of 'Gertrude.' She had poked and prodded Lily dispassionately while ignoring the worried questions about if the child would be okay or not, then left without a word. It made Lily feel more vulnerable, and as a result, her own health had worsened as the cramps got worse.

On her third day of imprisonment, another healer came in. He didn't give his name, but she could tell he wasn't the normal Azkaban healers meant to ensure that the prisoners wouldn't die immediately. He was the first to speak to her, but his voice held no compassion for her situation.

"Lily Potter?" he asked coldly while the two guards behind him watched her carefully.

"Yes," she had replied back listlessly.

"Remove her bed," he had told the guards, his upper lip curling up with disgust. "Her water broke and the mattress is filthy. She will get rags to sleep on."

Lily gasped with shock when one guard walked in to grab her up and toss her towards the corner, then flinched when she heard _crucio_. She did not expect the guard to collapse on the floor screaming.

"You idiot," the healer sneered as he held the curse for several more seconds before breaking off the spell beam with a simple flick. "She's not to be harmed." He looked at Lily dispassionately and conjured a wooden chair which he gestured her to. "Please have a seat so they can attend their duties of cleaning out your cell while I check you over, Mrs. Potter."

Lily hesitated, but when she saw the cold and black eyes narrow with impatience, she complied thinking she could get more information from him at the very least. The prison bed was also a disgusting mess that had made her cell smell of rot of clotted blood and amniotic fluids. She had avoided looking at herself knowing she was a mess as well, and she would be glad when the mattress was gone, even if it meant she only got rags to cover the floor with.

Once she was seated, the blond man started casting a series of diagnostic charms on her. Lily recognized some of the pregnancy ones, but there were a couple that she didn't know. "Is my baby okay?" she had asked meekly, hoping he would be more willing to reply than Gertrude was. She was about to give up hope of information from that avenue when he responded while reading the parchment with results from his spells written out on it.

"The baby is fine," he said, but her relief was dashed by what followed. "The spell the Dark Lord used will ensure his life. Yours, on the other hand, is failing. You have not eaten since you've arrived here and your fluid intake has been minimal. Unless you want to give birth to a crippled child, you need to care for yourself better."

She gaped at him in shock and wrapped her arms around her belly protectively. "What will happen to him? What was that spell?" she asked with a quiver of fear in her voice to try to get more from the man.

The healer moved slightly to the side to allow the guards to move past him with the metal bed frame as he began his reply, his eyes never leaving the parchment. "I do not know what will happen to your child, but the spell is a variation of a rather old birthing spell," he explained. "During difficult pregnancies, there is a spell that will tie the magic of the caster to the child to give him a small boost of strength to allow for childbirth. It went out of style when healers learned how to cut babies out with little to no risk to the mothers. The Dark Lord created a variation for your punishment."

Lily blanched then shuddered as her imagination started to go wild. A tear fell from her eye as she considered that her poor baby was being tainted by the Dark Lord's magic. "Will it hurt my baby?" she whispered.

"No. You should feel quite honored, actually," the healer explained while wiggling his wand about her once again. "That is why I am here. A miscarriage was not anticipated and the Dark Lord commanded me to take your case personally. The magic drain was larger than expected, and so I am to ensure you live long enough for the child to grow."

The part where her baby would grow large enough rip his way out was left unsaid.

Lily didn't focus on that, however. She thought of what he had said about the magic drain. Voldemort must be weakened by the spell! She kept her head bowed down in defeat while he continued to cast so that she could hide that she was thinking about how to weaken the Dark Lord permanently. She came out of her thoughts when a potion was thrust in front of her, and she looked up with a silent question in her eyes without accepting it.

"Nutrition potion," he answered curtly. "You'll be taking them with breakfast and dinner. You'll also be allowed one fresh fruit a day for lunch. Your bedding will be changed out every morning as well since there is no way to stop your labor."

As though mentioning it was enough, two levitated piles was followed by the guards as they entered and dropped them into the corner where her bed once was. "You will have a fresh pail of water with your breakfast to use to wash up the best that you can, but you'll not be getting exercise time once a week like the other prisoners. Honestly, I don't expect you to live out the month, but if you are careful, you might give your son a chance to live."

Lily froze at what he said, but then she steeled herself. "I'll live," she spat out to the healer as she looked up at him defiantly. "I'll live for as long as I can. If it weakens your lord, I'll live forever if I have to."

* * *

Her son had become both the bane of her existence and her reason for living for the next few weeks as the pain intensified until it was full out labor. She had learned that the variation the Dark Lord had added was the inability to actually birth her child. Her baby was now a tool of revenge for her, but also the last thing she had left in the world to love. She cursed him and she begged for his forgiveness. She hated him and she hated herself for hating him and for allowing Voldemort to maker her hate what she had loved once with purity.

Voldemort had tainted everything in her life and she would make him pay before she died. She knew her time was close.

It was night now and she had eaten dinner along with the nutrient potion several hours ago. The healer had stabilized the rib that her son had broken in his thrashing earlier that afternoon. She had asked for the date and was told it was the 30th of July, which meant she had been here in this state for over three weeks. She finally had a plan and she was waiting for the midnight patrol of the dementors to carry it out.

"Just be a good boy for a little longer," she sobbed to her belly before she began to stir towards the cell door. It seemed that he would not listen to her, however, and she had only managed to get on all fours before she was kept in place by the pain. She gritted her teeth and rode it out instead of collapsing as her shaky limbs demanded, and when it passed, she crawled her way across the grimy floor and pulled herself up using the bars before using them for support.

Several more contractions passed with her keeping herself up by hanging off the bars like that before the dark corridor's temperature plummeted. "Harry," she whispered softly as she limply brushed her hand hand against her belly. "Just a bit longer. Mommy promises..."

She let out a quiet and pain filled sob as images started to stir in her mind. The trial. Her husband taking Bellatrix's severing curse that had been meant for her. Sirius being blasted away by Bartemius Crouch's son as he tried to usher her to the floo.

As her weak breath started coming out in faint fogs, her memories turned more recent. Telling her swollen belly how she hated him ( _NO!_ ) and how he was the biggest mistake ( _NEVER!_ ) and that she wished she had miscarried before the curse ( _I DIDN'T MEAN THAT_!). As her eyes made out the silhouette of a gliding figure, she struggled to push down the memory of breaking her wooden water pail to try to stab her belly with the shards ( _PAIN DELUSIONS! NOT REAL!_ ) so she could grab the cloak as it passed by.

The dementor stopped and turned slightly though she couldn't see inside of its hood. She kept her grip even as her fingers went painfully numb from the coldness of the material.

"Please," she begged it while looking into the darkness where a face should be at. "Please. I will give you my soul.. Just keep my son safe."

She held her breath and wondered if it could understand her as she swayed to stay on her feet to beg again with the last of her strength. "I would rather he die than live under Voldemort's reign," she whispered as she leaned towards the bars with tears in her eyes. "Take my soul and take him. Please." And if her theory was right, if her son's soul was sucked out, then it would take the Dark Lord's magic with it.

Hope flared brightly within her as the dementor moved to her, then a skeletal hand slipped in between the bars and gathered her towards it in macabre parody of a romantic pair. Its other hand pulled its hood back and she gasped at the eyeless visage before her, but then she firmly closed her eyes and tilted her face up to receive its kiss as she relaxed into its embrace though the bars kept them apart.

Her eyes snapped open however when she felt the clawed hand going to her belly as a cold and clammy mouth covered hers. She tried to struggle when the talons painfully punctured and tore through her abdomen like wet tissue paper, but it was too late. The final feelings she fed the dementor before it took her soul was a mix of vindictive pleasure, relief that the pain was going to end, and a strong dose of love tinged with bitter sadness that made it all the more sweeter to the begin preying on her.

The dementor dropped the body of the woman abruptly once the child was in its clawed hand. The mother's terms was more than acceptable to it - a soul willingly given was a very very rare delicacy. It happened maybe once a century if that, and no dementor would refuse a sacrifice like that when the asking price was so small.

However, it did not think it would have to contend with so much love since those they preyed upon were normally filled with the opposite. Love was one of the requirements of a Patronus Spell, and it was what was the driving factor to keep dementors and their cousins back.

It carefully wiggled the blood soaked child in between the prison bars and brought it towards its own face and the baby began to wail. The other clawed hand severed the umbilical cord that had kept the newborn attached to his mother, and it smothered the babies cries with its own mouth.

Rather than suck though, this time it blew. A wet and squishy noise echoed out that made the other prisoners shudder with revulsion and stay well away from their bars as the dementor regurgitated the soul it had just sucked up into the child's mouth. It waited for the side tainted with love to accumulate outside of its lips then it bit down and forced the baby to swallow what it had deposited.

The baby choked and squirmed, and the dementor looked on until the pink flesh started to turn blue. It turned him over in its hand then gave it a sound slap on its back that left behind three long but shallow cuts. The baby wailed out heartily and the dementor tucked him into its cloak where he could no longer be heard before it drew its hood back over its head once again to continue its nightly journey.

When the healer came in the following morning, he was shocked by the scene that met him. He tried to gather as much information as he could from other inmates who might have seen what had happened, but there was very little to uncover and so it was a shake and pale man that stood before his Lord a few hours later.

"My Lord," he greeted, dropping to his knees and kissing the hem of the luxurious robes.

"Report, Gowain Derwent," Voldemort commanded, annoyed at having had his magics sapped for weeks only to feel the spell morph late at night into something he was unfamiliar with. It was no longer draining him, but he was pretty sure that the spell had not dissipated. It had become something nebulous and unfamiliar, and it didn't settle right with him.

"The mudblood perished last night," his personal healer began immediately without looking up. "She appeared to have been ripped open. Closer inspection showed that she was kissed, however, and the child was nowhere to be found. Other prisoners in the vicinity only reported strange noises and the sound of a baby's wails being suddenly silences. I am guessing that a dementor took interest in her or that she may have tried to escape as her body was right by the bars."

Voldemort tightly gripped his throne as he looked down at the back of his healer's head, working to hold back his temper to that he wouldn't crucio the man. The mediwizard had served him loyally for the last two years and was bound by several oaths and Vows to never betray him, and it was rather hard to find those in the healer community with little to no morals that wouldn't try to turn on him at the first sign of weakness. Still, he didn't tolerate failures well.

"What were my orders, Gowain?" Voldemort asked in a low and angry voice after letting the man quiver from the long silence.

"Th-that she was to be kept alive until the child was ready to fulfill the curse, my lord," he replied back promptly, his voice steady only after the first gulp.

"And what happened?"

"She managed to kill herself on the dementor?" he asked, not sure of the answer himself.

"It that a question?"

Derwent shivered and shook his head no vehemently while keeping his eyes firmly on the marbled black floor where he was at. "No, my lord. I am uncertain as to what actually happened. That was a possibility that the guards come up with," he replied, completely willing to throw the guards under the trampling hippogriff so to speak.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and slowly ran a finger along his jawline as he considered the reply, his rage calmed down enough for him to think rationally once again. "Yesss, I suppose it is the guard's job to investigate appropriately," he finally hissed out while keeping his ruby eyes on his minion just to watch the tenseness leave as Derwent relaxed. "However, you were to keep her alive."

His lips curled into a sadistic smile as the healer tensed up faster than he had the first time. The taste of holding his kind of power and fear over people was delicious and he enjoyed sampling it whenever he wanted. "To make up for your failure, you will be communicating with the dementors to find out where the child is. Confer with Severus Snape to get the potion made and send Malfoy the time and date of the questioning. I will be there while you channel. You may leave to your new duties."

The healer quivered and nodded, waited on his knees with his head down to make sure there was nothing more for a few seconds longer, then he got up and bowed low. "Thank you for the honor, My Lord," he said before all but fleeing the meeting chamber while those in silver masks laughed softly at his misfortune.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort commanded once Derwent closed the doors behind him, and though she wore a silver mask as well, her low cut dress under her cloak was different from the robes most wore when she stepped forward. "You're in charge of the guards. They've been too lazy as of late. Correct that."

"Yes, My Lord!" she all but sang with sadistic glee, then she turned to skip out with the two Lestrange brothers on her heels.

* * *

Edit: 2/12/18

Nope, I haven't abandoned the story. I've written the new chapter up 4 or 5 times times now and have scrapped over 5k words each time. In the meantime, I've been trying to go back and edit since I was unhappy with the grammar and writing in some cases, mostly chapter 1 though. Thanks for being patient, it's been a rough year but things are finally settling down. Medical conditions, moving houses, and hurricane Irma are but a few things on that list of 'a rough year.' Should hopefully have a new chapter out in a week or two, I think I've finally settled on how to weave the next part of the story.


	3. Visitation Rights

Chapter 3 - Visitation Rights

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Azkaban fortress is considered one of the most foreboding structures in Britain. Situated on a barren island in the North Sea, the intimidating prison is carved directly from the grey stone that forms it, and the dark waters that surrounds the craggy land is constantly in turmoil. The waves that have crashed against the salt encrusted walls for centuries attests to the strength of the stone, but the things within the terrible edifice is what kept everyone terrified of being imprisoned within.

Dementors are but one of the many untold secrets that Azkaban holds and the walls of the place itself held centuries of anguish and misery that had a life of its own at times.

The towers was where the wardens and prison guards stayed along with any political prisoners - it was the safest location in the infamous jailhouse. It was also there that most of the things like paperwork and other normal routine things were done. The ground floors contained the minimum security prisoners and the kitchens to feed the inmates as well as the enclosed rectangular prison yard that had sparse patches of vegetation growing among the salty grey rocks. There was no exit to the outer world from the ground floor; only ways up into the towers or down into the lower levels. The kitchens were usually manned by prisoners who were deemed most harmless and were sentenced for smaller offences like enchanting muggle artifacts and selling flawed potions or hokey amulets that were meant to protect but were just scams. Guards were posted there to oversee the work being done, but dementors were not common in the area except to feed once a week.

Following that was where the actual entrance to the prison was as it was carved right in cliff face where the boats with incoming prisoners and visitors docked at. It was considered basement level one and opened up into a large and bleak atrium with a twenty foot high ceiling where grimacing and roughly carved monsters looks down from above. The rough granite floor was never smoothed or polished up in all the centuries due to the runes carved into it that, with the right rituals, allowed for communication with the dementors. This was also the level that they could begin to move about freely in, but they were under orders not to feed off of anyone there. This was also the location where an audience could gather to watch a Kiss being delivered.

Level one had many corridors and rooms, but they were all empty. The few guards that explored the area when they were still new to their duties here often didn't go deeper than the first couple of hallways because the way sound echoed about would play on their mind so that they felt both terribly alone while also being surrounded by an undetectable presence. Further, grey and dark empty rooms with nothing but small slits in the wall on occasion that looked out but gave no space to wiggle through would unnerve even the most hardened one of them, so they were quick to leave. If asked, not even the head warden knew why nobody used those rooms even as prison cells, and though requests in the past had been sent to expand into those areas, the ministry would deny it with only the claim that it was the 'Welcoming Center' and so they continued to remain desolate.

The following three basement levels were for medium security prisoners that had sentences lasting a few years. For approximately half of them, it was a death sentence, and they now consisted of murders and those who had given succor to people in the Order. The prisoners here were allowed out into the yard on the first floor three times a week for an hour each time, and none of the cells contained the slitted windows like the floors above had. It was gloomy and lit with blue flames rather than torches except on special occasions which gave the prisoners some rare warmth.

The fifth level was used to hold storage items such as dried foods, towels, extra mattresses and blankets, prisoner uniforms, and other things like that. It was there to be a buffer between the upper floors and the lower ones. Maximum security prisoners were kept in the sixth layer where they were allotted one visitation a week to the prison yard if the guards felt like allowing it. These prisoners were those that had rebelled against Lord Voldemort's rise to power, namely those in the Order though the Lovegoods and others who were very outspoken against him were also contained here. There would be no Luna born, but at the same time, her mother would not die to an unfortunate spell accident. The Weasleys were another prominent family contained here as well as Scrimgeour and Crouch Sr. The Longbottoms were recently imprisoned, and all the young children sent to either be adopted into related families or the magical orphanage that was made just for the amount of children orphaned in this way. There they could be raised with proper wizarding values under the watchful eyes of caretakers so that they could become citizens in the future as long as they learned that their family was wrong and the Dark Lord was the rightful leader of all.

The seventh level was barely accessible. There were four cells that could be used for solitary confinement, and any kept within for longer than 24 hours were quickly driven mad if they weren't already. The darkness that couldn't be penetrated except by the most powerful spells for light which still only gave off a sickly appearance that barely held off the gloom discouraged further explorations within its depths. The scouting parties that had been sent further in either never returned, or they came back aged by decades and permanently catatonic. Nobody knew if there were levels farther below but the dementors themselves, and they remained silent on what was below even under ritual questioning and offers of many souls.

On this day, the Azkaban head warden, Lady Goyle, was ordering her underlings about to get the prison organized for the Dark Lord's visit. Accurately guessing that He was angry over the loss of Lily Potter and her baby the day prior, she sent her best people to investigate the cell for any more clues while having others prep the atrium for the summoning. The prisoners were being made to prepare a large feast as well in case the Dark Lord ended up staying long enough to eat, and she was going over the investigation files herself to check it for any discrepancies. She sipped her tea laced with a calming draught to steady her nerves, and when the gong signifying his ship docking echoed throughout, she quickly downed a pain relief potion to anticipate the upcoming Cruciatus Curse and hurried down to the atrium with the rest of the guards that weren't on duty to greet him while feeling grateful that she had already given birth to her son, Gregory, late last year so wouldn't need to worry about his health.

As the tall and rust covered iron doors screeched open, all of the guards lining the walls and the head warden waiting by the entrance along with her second in command, Crouch Jr, dropped to their knees in supplication. It took a couple minutes before the echoes of the screaming metal died off in the last of the empty rooms on level one. Finally, Albraxus Malfoy's dragonhide boots clacked on the floor when he entered to herald his Lord.

"All hail the ruling Dark Lord," he intoned to those there, and everyone bowed until their foreheads were pressed to the floor. "Long live Lord Voldemort!" they cried out in response before a hushed silence fell over everything.

They could feel his dark and magical aura which seemed to cast a shadow of its own that dimmed the sunlight that came in through the large opening before his soft footfall was heard entering the atrium. Those here shivered, then shivered again when the temperature plummeted from the sudden presence of dementors somewhere nearby though none made an appearance. They didn't even need to be summoned! Though they were his allies, it was still unexpected since they did not do that on his last visit here when the prison was first overtaken right before Dumbledore's fall.

"Lady Goyle, report," the Dark Lord commanded as his slitted red eyes observed everyone bowing before him. Severus Snape and Gowain Derwent both stepped up behind him before the rest of his inner circle fanned out throughout the room to begin inspecting the runes.

"My Lord," she humbly replied back while drawing herself up enough to pull out the folder to begin her report. She sent a small prayer to Morgana to help her get through this without stammering; the Dark Lord would pounce on any weakness she showed.

"The incident occurred shortly after midnight while the dementors were on patrol, My Lord," she began and took a deep breath to continue. "What prompted the dementor to give her a Kiss is not established, but we believe she was suicidal as she had been caught just last week breaking apart a wooden pail to try to tear her child out of her womb. We had managed to stop her from succeeding with only lacerations to her hands and abdomen as well as a few injuries on her thighs where her downward thrusting slipped off of her belly. It was noted that it seemed like the child within had its own protection and we admire how effective your curse was."

She paused a moment to see if her flattery was unwelcome or not, and when nothing came, she continued. "Her body, on further inspection, showed frostbite on the fingers with a scrap of fabric from the dementor's cloak. We believe she may have grabbed the dementor to get its attention and offered it a kiss since there was also frostbite along her lower back as though she was being embraced. As for the child, all we were able to determine was that the umbilical cord was frozen then shattered. The child remains lost but because of the cut, we believe the dementors know its whereabouts."

Voldemort listened to her, and when she finished her report, he let the silence continue and watched her fidget in her bowed position in much the same way a child would watch a drowning ant farm as he thought over what she said. He then glanced over to his pale and shaky healer and smirked.

"Is the potion suitable, Ssseverus?" he asked with a deliberate hiss of the name and smirked when what should have been silent sighing from the guards become audible by the amount of people breathing outward at the same time.

"Yes, My Lord," Severus stiffly replied back. His mask hid his silent anguish at how Lily had died and he worked on squelching the pain he felt in his chest. To show anything of his internal battle for the love he lost in such a terrible way without ever having gotten to make up for her would be a pointless suicide for him, especially with nobody to oppose the Dark Lord. He reached into his sleeve instead and withdrew an icy blue vial which he offered to Derwent who accepted it with a shaky hand.

"I will try to spare you, my loyal Gowain," the Dark Lord said as he met his healer's eyes for a brief moment, then he jerked his head. "Everyone but my inner circle and Crouch Jr is to clear out. Goyle, you are relieved of your position for failing your duty to keep the prisoners safe for my entertainment. Further, your son will have to work from the bottom rank when he comes of age to make sure that your failures are not a genetic trait. _Crucio_."

The guards cleared out quickly to the screams of their ex-head warden and the inner circle began to cut upon their palms with small daggers. Only when they all looked to the Dark Lord to silently indicate that they were ready was when he cut off his curse, then he nodded to Crouch Jr and pleasantly noted the boy's eyes gleaming sadistically. "Remove her from my presence then return," he commanded. The young man was quick to grab her by her hair when she was not fast enough to get up on her own, and he dragged her out roughly while hissing something in her ear as she thanked the Dark Lord for sparing her life.

He nodded at his inner circle to begin then looked at the potion in the healer's shaking hands. Snape really was a valuable minion, he had created the masterpiece at the tender age of 18 and had named it the Teleanima Draught or, as translated, the soul communication draught. As the name hinted, it was Soul Magic based and one of the hardest branches of magic to control due to the complexity of it combined with little available research. It allowed the imbiber to translate the will of the dementors - a form of communication that was the sharing of concepts in an almost empathic way. The downfall was that every question answered would make the imbiber's soul slowly be drained away as the magic consumed it and the person questioning was the one who would determine the imbiber's fate. It would take years, if not decades, to recover if Voldemort allowed Gowain to survive, and those that lived could only perform normal duties that had been consistent as they remained only partially aware of the world about them until their soul fully formed again.

Prior to the discovery of the potion that allowed him to win control of the alliance with them from the ministry, communication with the dementors consisted of offerings of prisoners until a dementor would nod an acceptance to terms. Negotiations could go on for days before the ministry would give up at times, thinking the creatures mindless beings that didn't understand anything beyond "feed" and "reproduce." He learned through the first set of negotiations that though they appreciated the ability to feed off any muggle cities they wanted and that yes, they did want to increase their numbers, they did not want to lose control of Azkaban itself. He did not mind allowing them to stay here on this tiny island, especially as they were willing to continue to keep the prisoners held. Until now, that was.

The last of the runes had been smeared with the blood of his followers and he indicated to the terrified healer to step into the center of the room with a mocking wave of his hand. "Drink first, then enter, Gowain. Should you survive, I will be sure to place you in St. Mungo's to work as normal staff there until your recovery, and then you may attend me once more with your penance served."

Pale though he was, the blond man gave a curt nod and jerkily pulled the stopper off the crystal vial then quickly consumed it with a quick toss into the back of his throat. He shuddered and dropped the vial to the floor where it shattered to clasp his hands over his mouth while struggling not to heave it up. The feeling of its icy chill had clawed its way down into his belly and now it was slowly spreading its tendrils out like wiggling needles kept in glacial waters for years. Before he could annoy his Lord, though, he staggered his way into the center of the atrium and all of the Death Eaters took up their positions along the outer runes with the Dark Lord standing close to the healer.

He waved his hand as the rest began that intonations and the iron doors screamed shut. Another wave lit up the sconces along the walls with a sickly green fire - a variation of fiendfyre. It lit the grimacing and scowling faces of monsters on the ceiling with a sickly light and the Dark Lord delighting with the sight while his minions stirred restlessly. Crouch Jr hesitated when he stepped back into the atrium since the shadows almost made the crudely carved features above seem alive, but he dashed in just as the runes activated and bowed deeply to his master.

"Stay and observe," he commanded his new head warden, then used his wand to slash his palm open to drip his blood out onto the runes that Gowain stood upon. They flared to life with a red light and the healer's eyes rolled into the back of his head while his body was held up by magic. The healer appeared to be trying to struggle against something when his body twitched a couple times, but then his sclera frosted over and his mouth went slack.

Dementors poured out from the empty hallways and surrounded the rune-protected area. Gowain gave a choked sound and then his breath misted out.

 _Speak||Talk{Communicate}Request_

No words were spoken precisely for no voice could whisper out the meaning of those words all at once, but it was clear that they were willing to communicate.

"I want to know if the boy is alive," the Dark Lord said. "The baby that was ripped out of its mother's womb the night before last."

 _Yeeeessssssss_

The breathy sound of all of the voices replying as one sent shivers up Crouch Jr's spine and he stared hard at the mouth that was issuing the noise. It had not moved, nor hard the throat or the tongue though he could see that ice was beginning to form inside of the mouth where the saliva was hardening.

"I want the boy back," the Dark Lord bit out.

 _Noooooooooo_

The inner circle shifted and glanced back at their lord with the denial from the dementors and they paled, hoping that they would not be forced to war with being that were immortal. Only a few here could summon a Patronus, and none had the spell power to open the iron gates without at least two others helping should they need to run. And the sea of dementors was still growing with many now swooping from overhead.

Lord Voldemort had narrows his eyes at the denial and he clutched the wand inside his robe sleeve for a moment before relaxing. "You cannot keep a human baby alive," he tried this time. "It requires milk and warmth, things which you do not have. Give him to me and I will ensure he lives."

 _No||Never[Ours] **It** lives {It sleeps eternal} It shall be reborn||The vision {Still sustenance}[Can provide]Not Leaving{deal}[Deal]/Deal/||_ The Deal

Voldemort blinked several times as his mind was overwhelmed by the sudden discussion that was not a discussion and he grew frustrated when he only understood the last. He to make sure that his minions were still holding, though they were now on their knees, then he glanced to the healer next so see how he was doing under the pressure. The man's slack-jawed face appeared to have aged ten years and his temples had turned white from the strain.

"What deal?" Voldemort asked this time, starting to take care with how he chose his words. The healer's life wasn't worth a lot to him, but there was no second potion to continue this discussion nor a second sacrifice. He had to get what he could out of this now and he cursed himself for not considering that they might give him a hard time over a child. It was even more surprising that they had kept the baby alive and he shuddered to think about what might happen if they chose to devour the baby while his magic was still tied to its soul. He needed to get to the Potter child to undo the spell, but once he did, he didn't care what these creatures did with it.

 _Love||Hate{Willing Sacrifice} [...]_

The crowd of dementors parted slightly to allow one to glide forward and Voldemort focused on it as it raised a bony hand to point a clawed and skeletal finger at him.

 _Protect from yoouuuu [...]_

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at that dementor. "You're the one that ate her soul and took the baby?" he questioned, his voice laced with venom at the being that took what rightfully belonged to him. "It was mine, already marked by me!"

Gowain made another choking sound and Voldemort looked at him with surprise just in time to see a spray of bloody ice burst out of his throat. As the choking continued for another few seconds, he realized that he was being laughed at. Him!

"You dare to mock me? I, who made you great? Who freed you from the Ministry's control? Who has given you souls and breeding grounds as well as Azkaban? I can destroy this puny island and all of you that dwell upon it!" he raged, whipping out his wand and turning it to the one that was still pointing at him.

 _Cannot||Impossible{humorous}[We are made Immortal]_

 _The Sacrifice was exquisite [...]_

The second pronouncement came out on its own by the single dementor and it had caused the rest of the voices to die down on their mocking. When Voldemort looked around at his minions once again, they were all curled up on the floor and he frowned with confusion. "What are you doing to them?"

 _[Our Presence] Us||Our Aura {You are Protected}[ **HE** protects you for now]_

"He? He who?" Voldemort asked, unsettled but refusing to show it. He did not like the feeling of not holding the upper hand for a change, and with his inner circle only able to keep keep their mind focused on keeping the runes powered under the mental assault they were under, he felt very exposed. He mentally cursed himself for not being able to learn more about this earlier on and vowed to find the dementor's weakness.

 _The baby||Child{Father}[ **Master** ]Past[Future]_

Voldemort stilled himself and worked to calm down both his rage and his sense of vulnerability as he processed the information. It sounded like two separate people and he wondered if the mysterious sub levels contained another darker entity within it. Another glance at the healer showed that his hair had whitened further and the icicles that formed at the corners of each eye hinted that the man must be going through severe pain for it to cause a reaction in the catatonic state the potion had put his mind under. He imagined the man's soul was being ripped apart by the ideas they were trying to convey through human concepts.

"How will you keep it alive without sustenance?" he countered coldly now that he had his wits about him. "You cannot keep it asleep forever or it will perish eventually."

He felt a moment of triumph when the dementors shifted restlessly, his first successful counter against them.

 _Willing to [...] barter for Mother||Nurse{Nanny}[Milk goat]_

Voldemort almost laughed at the absurdity of the last concept; he managed to keep it contained to a small twitch of his lips when his mind thought of medieval peasants bartering. Obviously, it was a foreign concept to them, but one most likely learned through the Ministry's crude attempts at controlling them.

"I want to see the boy whenever I want," he replied back smoothly. "When I visit, I will bring a nursing mother to feed him with as well as a healer to make sure he is healthy and whole."

 _No||Too Much [You may see him in ten years.]_

Voldemort spared the healer another glance to gauge his time limit and questions. The man was looking to have aged a total of 60 years at this point and he estimated five more questions could be answered before his life gave out. Another glance at his followers lowered his estimate down to three questions - they barely looked coherent and would pass out first leaving him vulnerable to the swarm.

"Once a month and you'll get a mother if you can care for her and keep her from perishing," he bartered back. "I also want to know why you want the boy that much."

 _[Once a year]{Annual} Your choice on day||One reason_

"Then I wish to see him now as well to seal the deal," he quickly replied with another look at at his inner circle. "I need to make sure he is indeed alive."

The chamber stilled as about half of the swarm withdrew back into the dark corridors which made room for the score or so remaining to fan out. The pressure apparently eased for his followers as some began to stir slightly with renewed vigor to protect their Lord, and Voldemort made a mental note to reward those appropriately when they returned back to the building that used to be the ministry but was now his castle.

The single dementor that had spoken on a few occasions reached a skeletal hand into its decaying robes and pulled out a naked newborn still covered in smears of dried blood and a rotting umbilical cord still attached to his belly button. The child curled up in the large hand like a kitten with his fist in his mouth and he did not stir at being brought out. With the blue lips, Voldemort thought him dead, then his sharp eyes cause the small movements of shallow breathing.

"He dies," he stated dispassionately.

 _We know [...]_

"I shall have the mother here then within the hour and I will be following her so I may perform the health inspection myself."

The dementors hesitated a moment, but when the one holding the baby bowed an acceptance and tucked him into his robes once again, the rest all swept out.

 _Only you and the mother [...]_

The final message before it swooped out had an unspoken warning buried in it. Any others that accompanied them to the lower levels would be eliminated and the deal would be broken. The circle broke when the inner circle fainted nearly as one, Crouch Jr and Snape having passed out several minutes earlier, and the healer collapsed onto the floor. The potion had done more damage than expected and in an unexpected way for when the prematurely aged man's head hit the ground, it shattered into frozen pieces of meat, hair, bone, and brain matter.

As the oppressive aura faded away, Voldemort couldn't help but feel that was one of the toughest bargains he had to go through so he resolved to find out why the dementors wanted the child that badly.

He had left Azkaban's secrets a secret for too long and his allies had become a nuisance.

* * *

AN: I didn't expect so many faves and stuff. Thanks you all and I hope you guys like how I did the dementor's "speech." =)

This chapter is the longest so far but contained little in the way of sadism. Yet I enjoyed setting up the scenario and the Azkaban layout since the thing that set off my feverish brain into making this fic was idle daydreams about what could be worse than dementors who are considered the worst kinds of dark creatures. It's too bad that Voldy won't find much information since the ministry was too faint of heart to have written down what they came across upon their own discovery of Azkaban.

I have a beta, too! She's really awesome but I don't know her username here, so I'll just say 'I love you, Jez-monster!'

Normally my sister and my roommate betas for me, but I know the former would refuse to go past the first chapter and the latter told me last night that he didn't think he could go past chapter 2. Honestly, his damning statement was a form of high praise for me since he said 'I'm fine with gore. I've seen you do sadistic things and I'm okay with that. But it's the descriptions of emotional anguish that's messing with me. You have to be very masochistic or sadistic in order to actually enjoy it.' Basically, I am actually conveying what I'm trying to - normally emotions are a hard thing for me to write directly so I get them through using body language when I role play.

Vindictive John Dark Fantasy, your reviews make me laugh ^_^ They go well with your username.

Serenity, thanks for supporting me!

First review - Stella. Sorry, this won't be a Minister Voldemort story! I waited to respond until I dropped enough hints so that you guys could all see that Voldy intends to rule everyone as a dictator using his might and influence. He's only just managed to squash the last of the larger resistances and time will pass quicker after another couple chapters or so. He's still an insane sociopath - but didn't go through a decade+ of being driven mad by being a helpless wraith so he won't have the 'little big man' problem where he felt the need to constantly prove he was superior. He knows he is. And he'll either crush everything standing in his way or outsmart it if he can.

I won't make you all suffer through a long and drawn out baby Harry.


	4. Unhallowed Home

Chapter 4 - Unhallowed Home

* * *

Voldemort left his followers in the atrium without checking to see if they lived and began to slowly navigate his way up to the prison yard so he could prepare for the upcoming meeting. As his soft footsteps left echoes of whispers in the completely silent halls, he thought about the situation he found himself. He needed a nursing mother to get close to the baby, and he needed her now.

The child would not have been more than a passing thought once its purpose in tormenting and killing its mother had been served had all of this not occurred. He silently cursed the instability of soul magic that led to the tie between him and the child that made him have to deal with the dementors. At the same time, though, they had finally shown their hand and now he knew there was something more to them than was previously thought. His lips stretched out into a greedy smile as he imagined possessing this new knowledge and power, but his expression smoothed out as he used wandless magic to open the doors leading to the gloomy yard.

The light outside stung his eyes after being in the dim sub-level for so long, but he did not let it show. Instead, he stood there in the doorway impassively as the guards waiting for his appearance out here dropped to their knees and used the time to let his eyes adjust. He knew they were surprised that Malfoy did not appear first to herald his presence nor that his entourage was not with him. He let them wonder about it in silence before he cleared his throat.

"Where are the Lestranges?" he asked out loud as he walked farther into the courtyard once he felt they were sufficiently cowed. His eyes now adjusted to the light the grey skies provided, he looked around the rectangular prison yard. It was as bleak as it ever was with nothing but sharp grey rocks with some scraggly green patches of grass here and there. Come storm season, all the plants would be dead when the salt spray of the sea would top over the walls..

The guards shifts as they looked at each other without raising themselves up off the ground to see who was willing to reply before one of them did. "They are currently with Lady Goyle and overseeing the packing," a wizard nervously responded.

When nobody moved, Voldemort felt a twinge of annoyance. "Well? Go get them, then," he snapped out. "And bring Lady Goyle as well."

The wizard quickly got up and ran off in the direction of the tower stairs.

"I need a few volunteers to check my followers in the atrium as well. Those that still live will be needing chocolates after revival so take them all to the infirmary," he commanded, and those closest to the doors he had exited moved to obey his demand. "Further, the mess down there will need to be cleaned and the body of my healer is to be properly prepared for transportation. Fix the damage for his funeral, he serviced me well."

A couple more followed the first group below and Voldemort looked over the remaining guards. "Who is highest rank here right now?"

Another wizard with lanky black hair raised himself slightly. "I am, my Lord," he replied promptly. "Matthew Belby, head of medium security."

Voldemort tilted his head to the right a little bit as he thought of the family name. "Relation to Damocles?" he asked.

"He is my father, my Lord."

"The creator of the Wolfsbane potion," he said with an approving nod. "I recall signing a special pardon due to his brilliance in the field of potion creation. I'm glad to see that his son has the proper respect for those in power."

Belby ducked his head down again and trembled slightly at the reminder that his father sold potions to those on both sides of the war even after the Dark Lord's order to stop selling to light wizards and held his breath as he waited to see what direction his master would go by bringing it up. His wait was not long, thankfully.

"Are there any nursing women in medium security, Belby?" the Dark Lord asked.

"N-no, my Lord," he shakily answered, afraid of being punished but eager to prove his loyalty even if the question confused him. "Molly Weasley was estimated about seven or eight months along with a girl before miscarrying shortly after her and her husband were incarcerated. She is most likely not producing if she was before that occurred."

Voldemort frowned at the answer, but before he could press for more information, Bella's cheerful voice cut through the atmosphere. "My Lord!" she shrieked out while dragging Lady Goyle alone by the hair behind her. The ex-warden looked ill used at this point - her clothes were disheveled and her makeup was streaked from the tears that had left behind reddened eyes.

Voldemort looked sharply to Rodolphus in irritation, a silent demand that the wizard reign in his wife. Yet, when Bella's husband placed a hand on her arm to try to get her to calm down, she just released Goyle's hair and jerked out of his grasp to run over to him. Dropped to her knees, she kissed the hem of his robes.

He wanted to kick her. He restrained himself since it would ruin his poise.

"Bellatrix," he said in a disapproving tone. "You should be conducting yourself in a manner more befitting of a pure-blooded lady."

She immediately pressed her forehead against the craggy rocks on the ground and stilled her fidgeting. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I am your most loyal and am eager to serve," she purred back, her manner subservient while her tone was seductive. "I will do _anything_ for you, my Lord."

Voldemort glanced over to her husband again with a mixture of irritation and curiosity in his eyes to see what the other man's reaction would be to such an unsubtle insinuation, and he wasn't disappointed by the anger he managed to catch before it was masked. It wasn't a jealous or possessive anger, however, and he would look into figuring it out later when he wasn't short on time.

"Lady Goyle," he said, opting to ignore Bellatrix and stepping away from her to approach the woman. The Lestrange brothers both dropped smoothly to their knees on the rocky ground and she clumsily followed. "Are you still lactating?"

She looked up in shock at the bold question, realized her mistake, and threw herself fully down on the ground at his mercy. "Yes, my Lord," she answered quickly, throwing out her pride in hopes that he would overlook her transgression. "I stopped feeding my son a couple weeks ago but I have not dried out yet."

"You are in luck, then," he replied silkily with a smile while leaning over to smooth her hair back out of her face. Behind him, he heard Bellatrix give a gasp of shock. "I have a new assignment for you."

"My Lord!" Bellatrix cried out as she scrambled to her feet. "I can-"

" _Crucio!"_

The curse was delivered in a quick strike; Goyle couldn't even catch the draw of his wand he was so fast. One moment he was leaned over her, and in the next his back was to her and Bellatrix was on the ground while screaming in pain.

"Rodolphus, I expect you to train your wife better," he remarked coldly over Bellatrix's screams. "She is never to interrupt me and needs to learn her place. I will bestow my attentions to those whom _I_ deem most worthy."

"Yes, my Lord," Rodolphus replied back with a grimace in his wife's direction, knowing she had been getting above herself lately since the Dark Lord had been giving the three of them more tasks. It brought them prestige amongst the ranks since it showed he had noticed their skills, but she had been letting it make her reckless as of late. He hoped this would help calm her where his and his brother's words hadn't.

Voldemort finally released Bellatrix from the curse after several minutes and turned his attention to Lady Goyle once again. "You have fifteen minutes to make yourself presentable, another five to pack some basic necessities, and then you will be attending me to my next destination," he told her, deliberately wording it so that Bellatrix would misunderstand. "Should you perform well in your new position for the next year or so, I will forgive you your mistakes and reward you and your family with a better status than what you had here."

"Thank you, most merciful Lord," she sobbed out with relief as she got on her knees, then reached out to gather up the hem of his robes to kiss. "I will not disappoint."

As she got up to hurry back to the towers, Voldemort felt disgusted that Goyle had also taken his words to mean he would want her body. She had already been used to give birth and her face was plain at best. However, Bellatrix's broken sobs that she couldn't keep quiet made it worth it.

"Rabastan, I have a special task for you," he said as he listened to the sobbing while looking out at the restless crowd. "The rest of you may attend to your regular duties. Belby, you will be in charge until Crouch is ready to resume his position as Warden."

Everyone began to immediately move around except for the three Lestranges. Bellatrix had gotten back to her knees again on the sharp rocks and she kept her head hung down in dejection. Once the prison yard was empty, he motioned for the brothers to stand. "You are to go to the ministry and gather all known early records on Azkaban contained in here. Further, I would like all of the records of the ministry's dealings with dementors as well," he ordered then looked over to Rodolphus. "You are to take your wife home after you stop by the Department of Mysteries. Tell them to gather anything of the history and artifacts of this location they may have or might have studied and that Rookwood is to hand it to me directly. Make sure your wife knows her place before her next appearance before me or I won't be so forgiving."

He glanced over to her pointedly. "I might decide to let Fenrir have her for a few nights next time. You three are dismissed. Take the floo network."

He smiled at their horrified expression to his threat then tucked his wand back into his sleeve as Rodolphus gathered up his young wife so the three of them could get to their tasks quickly. By the time Goyle arrived, he had been thinking in the yard pensively with only the sounds of the wave to keep him company. She had dressed more humbly this time in a pretty frock and had apparently decided to brush her hair and leave it out of its normal bun to save on time. On her shoulder was a bag that most likely contained the possessions he had ordered her to pack. She bowed low, but when she went to drop to her knees, he shook his head.

"We have no time for that," he said, then motioned for her to follow him as he started back down into the dark corridors of the basement. "Follow me. And don't ask questions."

She obeyed as she followed several steps behind him, but grew unnerved when he went for the steps that led farther down rather than the passage out into the atrium. She knew better than to ask what was going to happen, but the hope she held curdled into was not really her family's strong suit, but she was smarter than her husband even if her thoughts were slow.

He was going to feed her to the dementors. He had made a deal with them and she was the best sacrifice. But why the question on breast milk, then?

The dreadful feeling grew to nausea as she thought maybe that he expected her to breed with the dementors? But wait… there was a baby. That must be it. That was the whole reason she had lost the favor she had once held after all. Still, it must be special for him to be not only willing to pardon her, but to also offer a better rank for her whole family.

He must be looking for someone to play mother to the child. But what of her own child? Maybe he expected her to take this one home to raise until he was weaned and able to start moving around on his own. She frowned as she realized she was developing a headache in trying to figure out his motivations and tried to stifle a sigh only to gasp when she realized they were going down into the seventh level.

"My Lord, please not solitary confinement," she begged, her eyes wide with panic and filling with tears at the thought of being thrown into the dark with a only a baby to keep her company. Why had she let herself get so deep into thought to not even notice where they were?

Her hysterics were brought up short before they could escalate further when his sharp slap across her cheek stunned her briefly.

"Solitary confinement is not our destination," he hissed at her impatiently. "And if I hear one more word of complaint out of you, I will remove your tongue since you won't need that for your task. Be grateful that I need you whole and healthy or I would punish you severely for your impertinence."

He grabbed her arm and jerked her down the stairs with him, deliberately keeping her off balance so she could not fight back to try to run. When they reached the bottom, he waved his hand at the door so that it slammed shut and plunged them both into darkness. She reached out to grasp the back of his robe as she fought to keep the claws of fear at bay so that she wouldn't do something to anger him again.

He might be the Dark Lord, but right now he was the only thing between her and Unknown.

"M-my Lord," she whispered through jaws clenched up in terror. No questions. No impertinence. "Uhmmm.. W-what will m-my duties b-be?"

She cringed without releasing his robes when she realized she asked a question anyway, then felt relief when he didn't punish her by leaving her here alone and instead answered.

"They hold a baby that will need to be kept alive for some time," he replied back, his cool and steady voice reassuring her that he knew what he was doing. "What do you know of these lower levels, Lady Goyle?"

She swallowed hard then licked her dry lips before replying to try to calm her nerves down. "It b-became kind of a tradition for each n-new warden to venture down here for a f-few hours, my Lord," she said as she shifted a little closer to him and wondered why they were just standing here. "I d-didn't go too far p-past the cells before I became aware that there was... m-more."

Voldemort waited for her to continue after she faltered, but when she remained silent, he nudged her with his elbow. "More?" he asked, hiding his annoyance at her clinging to him weakly. She was weak - everyone was weak compared to him. He knew she would not be doing this under normal circumstance, though, and he allowed it both for the information she was giving and for the service she would be providing soon.

"Shadows that m-moved on their own. When mine s-started to move independantly from m-me I drew b-back and stayed in one of the cells f-for the rest of my initiation," she explained with a strong shudder. "Then there were v-voices. P-people I could a-almost recognize d-d-deeper in echoed out. It was just s-slightly off, my L-lord, but they s-started to c-creep closer. Then the d-doors opened and I g-got to leave b-before I s-saw It."

Voldemort rolled his eyes in the darkness at her fanciful story then strained his ears to see if he could pick up on any noise. The silence was total, however, and it was only her stressed breathing along with his more calm one that he heard. "There is nothing here, woman," he said impatiently, then brought out his wand. "I figured they would send a guide, but it appears I am wrong. _Lumos Solem._ "

The light beam that was normally as powerful and as warm as sunlight instead came out like a cheap flashlight about to die. Yet, even that bit of light relieved a small portion of the fear inside of Goyle and she eased her death grip on her Lord's robes instinctively knowing that if she held on any longer she would be trying his patience. "Thank you, m-my Lord," she said meekly, but couldn't bring herself to give him some space.

She stayed nearly on his heels as he started moving inward and kept her eyes firmly on the shifting fabric of his velvet robes so that she wouldn't unnerve herself further. She was too terrified to even consider pulling out her own wand and instead entrusted herself wholly over to him while hugging herself tightly to keep her shivering from getting too bad. The only things keeping her moving at this point was her need for his protection and her want to make sure her family was assured a good place.

Voldemort normally had no tolerance for her level of fear, but her silence was a blessing and it allowed him to sate his curiosity of the depths since she didn't question their slow pace nor show an inclination to make things difficult for him by running. He was rather lucky he had found a nursing mother in the god forsaken prison within the hour that they gave him so he could get a chance to undo the spell on the child.

He clenched his jaw as cold rage ran through him again. How dare they take what was his to begin with! How did Lily Potter know how to circumvent the spell and what did she do exactly? He thought back to the pail incident and wondered if maybe she used some kind of blood ritual, then dismissed that theory since it was weaker than soul magic. Obviously she made a deal with the dementors, but he didn't even consider the thought of studying the spell he had created since there was no way that his work would be flawed.

The main hall they walked down grew oppressive to Lady Goyle, she hadn't gone this far before, but she blanked her mind so that she wouldn't give in to urge to flee and reached out to hold the back of the Dark Lord's robes again. At that touch, Voldemort only gave a sigh then stopped to flash his light down the first side passage they had come to.

There had been nothing he had seen yet, just smooth and unbroken walls. Where they were rough on the higher levels, down here they had been smoothed down though they were not polished. The side corridor showed more of the dark and seamless walls and floors with no doorways or sconces that he could see, and he strained his ears once again to listen.

Faintly, he could hear the drip of water coming from somewhere.

Searching the ground around him to see if he could spot any footprints to indicate where he was to go, he froze when he realized there was no dust. Checking the ceiling, he saw no cobwebs or any indication of unused territory that would normally be there like mildew or cracks.

"Goyle," he said, then turned around to grip her arm painfully when she let out a startled scream because he broke the silence. "Stop that. Were there maps or anything of the lower levels in your office that you might have seen?"

At her wide eyed shaking while she mouthed no, too scared to even voice her answer, he released her and turned to continue with the main passage he was on. She immediately grabbed his robes from behind once again, and he ignored it since the only other desire was to remove her existence altogether.

In this way they passed by a few more side corridors that were pretty much the same as the first before his light finally landed on a pair of iron double doors that were shaped in the same way as the main ones that led to the docks though on a smaller scale. These were also in great condition and more detailed than their counterparts - those were rusted and the engravings on them were all but lumps. Interested, he got closer to examine it.

The first thing he noticed was that the large silver rings to open the doors was finely crafted to resemble brambles. The thorns poking out from the twisted vines were very sharp and he senses magic emanating from them - they appeared to be able to pierce through even dragonhide gloves.

The engravings on the doors, however, told a fairly horrific story. Starting from the bottom it showed children being put into medieval torture device while seven mothers, crowned with brambles and tearfully looking on from their 'thrones.' Closer inspection of the chairs showed they were actually a pyramid looking spike that was slowly impaling them by the weight of the luxurious dress that they all wore. Three women sat on the left and four down the right, but down the middle of the doors was a single man hanging naked from his wrists and bisected by the seam that separated the two.

The eyes somehow managed to make Voldemort feel like he was being glared hatefully at while the expression conveyed the same kind of pain he had seen on his victims when he had tortured their loved ones slowly during the war. Voldemort smirked at the man then looked at the engravings on the upper half above the women.

Those showed ships with people manning them at first glance, but looking closer he saw that the sailors were actually hung from the masts and deck rails. The ships themselves looked to be crafted out of human bones, and were he to stretch his imagination a little, he could sense that the artist was also conveying that the sails were made of human skin sewn together by the thin lines there. Distantly, his mind brought up the name Ekrizdis, and his eyes snapped back to the face of the man on the doors.

Ekrizdis was the dark wizard that had made Azkaban, Voldemort recalled while studying the man himself closer. Heavy eyebrows over the dark eyes were part of what made him look so hateful, but Voldemort could also see traces of cruelty in the mouth open with a silent scream. Looking over the body, he could also see scars branded all over it now that he was looking for them and he was amazed by the detail.

His thoughts were sidetracked when he felt Goyle's tug on the back of his robe and he realized that he had completely forgotten about her presence. "M-my L-l-lord.. D-did you h-hear that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He was about to snap at her for disturbing him when he heard something rustling in the direction they had come from. He swing his wand around to turn his light that way, but it refused to pierce the darkness past a few feet from them. "I'm here according to the deal," he snarled out, angry at feeling unnerved and cornered once again. "Nobody left me a guide, however, so I'm running late."

Door.. oor.. oor.. or..

He ignored Goyle who had abandoned all pretense of trying not to anger her Lord and instead had pressed herself against him when she heard the echo. "It's Th-th-them, m-m-my L-l-lord."

Oh, and the shadows. He snorted to show outward disdain. "Your parlor tricks won't work on me, I'm the Dark Lord. Stay back or I will banish you to the deepest pits of the Abyss."

Silence was the reply to his threat but the darkness didn't dissipate. Turning his back firmly to his to show he didn't consider it a problem, he glared at Goyle so that she released him then waved his hand to wandlessly open the doors. They wouldn't move.

"Open the, Goyle," he commanded her, then watched closely as she reached out to grasp one of the rings. Though she tried to get a grip without getting stabbed, she still got several knicks before she could manage to tug it. They still refused to open, however, and he cleared his throat to motivate her to use both hands and ignore the multiple thorns digging into her flesh so that she could try harder.

Both… oth… oh..

Her yanking grew frenzied at the echoes and he grimaced as he reached for the second ring. They didn't appear to be poisoned and he had his own protections from death anyway. Most likely they just required blood to open much like the cave he used to contain one of his treasures.

Once he grasped his and ignored the bite of the silver needles, it only took a light pull for both to soundlessly open. Goyle quickly dashed inside first and he followed after her slowly, but they both stopped once they saw what kind of room they were in.

The back of the room drew their eyes a large hearth that contained blue flames which gave off a cool breeze that could be felt even where they were standing. The mantle held a collection of old books that made Voldemort's fingers itch to read though they looked like they were bound in human skin. The floors, too, were covered in what look at first glance like many kinds of pelts sewn together in a large and thick rug, but a closer look made both of them realize that is was actually the scalps of long dead victims. A grand table and a magnificent chandelier looked like they came from an ossuary - femurs and other bones were crafted together in an interwoven artistic piece of work.

The overhead chandelier contained no candles - it was also lit with floating blue flames. With his eyes now on the high ceiling, he spotted three dementors circling above them and ignored the rest of the details like the gold plated stone shelves that contained gems, jewelry, artifacts, and other wonders that lined the walls. There were no chairs, couches, or pillows in the room.

"You bartered for a mother and did not provide a guide," he accused them, anger lacing his cold tone. "Where is the boy?"

An outstretched clawed hand pointed to his answer, and he turned to see another dementor gliding into the room holding the baby in its arms. Goyle shrank back and whimpered as it approached her so he moved to step forward and take it in her stead.

It shrieked a denial at him and two dropped down from above to place themselves between him and the child.

"What's this? We had a deal!" he snarled, then kicked the cringing woman cowering at his feet. "Collect the baby!"

Having worked in Azkaban for years, she was somewhat inured to the effects of dementors, but the terror she had experienced outside had left her open to their effects. His kick snapped her partially out of her memories, though, and she shakily stood up to reach out for the child.

Her first thought was that the baby was already dead since it was so cold, and she moaned in despair thinking she had failed her Lord by holding him back on their way here, but when it stirred, she backed up towards him while holding the child protectively.

"I have him, my Lord," she declared shakily though she managed to keep the stammering out.

Voldemort extinguished his light spell and started casting diagnostics while she held the child, her hands moving to try to warm it up. While he ignored the presence of the dementors, she kept a careful watch on them to make sure they wouldn't try to swoop in and ruin her chance at redemption. "He will need a bath as soon as I get him home," she eagerly said, hoping to please him.

"You won't be going home," he revealed to her coldly, shattering the last of her hope ruthlessly. "The child belongs to them. You are to stay here to feed and serve it."

Her sob did make him distantly wonder why people around him continually held on to hopes and expectations when they should have know not to. He was surrounded by weak idiots that wanted to be used in hopes that they would receive castoffs he might grant them, and that showed both his power and intelligence, but he couldn't grasp why people were like that. He supposed they were flawed even though he knew they would consider him the flawed one for his lack of weaknesses like compassion and a conscience.

At least the wizarding world acknowledged his greatness unlike the muggles. But they would pay - they were paying - and he would obliterate them once he had control of more than just the British ministry.

"The umbilical cord got infected," he told the dementors as he continued to cast. "The baby also needs nourishment and warmth, its temperature is lower than it should be and frankly, I'm surprised that it is alive at all. Its silence is also not natural, it should be crying."

He expected some kind of reaction from them since they were intent on keeping it alive, but the one that had come in with the child only pointed at the umbilical cord then to Goyle in a silent demand that those two things be addressed.

He cursed internally at the trouble they were putting him through while he did waved his wand to find out more about why the curse had changed. The answer he got appeared to be centered around the child's stomach, but he couldn't get more than that from it so he looked over to the hooded figure again. "I need to lay my hands on the baby."

The dementor hovered a little closer at his statement, but it didn't appear to be hostile. It actually looked more interested in what he was going to do if the way it tilted its head slightly indicated curiosity like it would in a human. Seeing no hostility from it, he slowly extended his hand out towards the child to where the spell had shown him a gold circle a couple inches above the umbilical cord while watching the dementor warily.

The face hidden by the deep cowl watched his hand and a glance up showed the dementors above them had also stilled to stare. He felt goosebumps prickle on this arms hidden by the heavy velvet robes he wore because of their intense focus, but there was no hostility so he shoved away the uneasy feeling and pressed his thumb down on the child's solar plexus.

The effect was immediate.

The pain of the Cruciatus curse played havoc on the victim's nervous system to wreak havoc on the pain receptors. Voldemort had experimented with it by having a minion cast it on him once to see how it truly felt and had disposed the Death Eater after. It was a purely physical pain that ended as soon as the spell did and left behind only a soreness caused from the body straining itself while being under it. It was excruciating, yes, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now.

His world shattered. His very being felt like it stood on the edge of a looming black precipice where the screams of all of his victims were waiting to devour him. He felt his existence being clawed by red hot and invisible talons while his mind had splinters of ice shoved into it. His magic was being drained while soul was being stretched to its limitations and he could feel himself unraveling..

The wails of a baby brought his mind back to focus and he found himself on his hands and knees, panting hard while clenching fistfuls of hair from the scalp-rug of long dead victims. The screaming child was on the ground a foot away from him, and a short search showed the dementors in the same place they were prior and a panicked Goyle kneeling next to him while fluttering her hands about uselessly.

"My Lord, are you okay? My Lord!" she wailed.

"Get off me, woman," he hissed angrily while shoving her back, then crawled forward to look at the child. He could not bring himself to grab it so that he could still its wiggling and kicking form, but a few seconds of patience showed a large black oval like a tattoo on its belly were he had pressed his thumb down at. Checking his own hand, he saw that his was black as well, but gnarled up as though burned or severely frost bitten and dead.

He leaned back onto his heels while cradling his hand to his chest and glared with blazing red eyes at the dementor as it swooped down to scoop the child into its arms. "I will be back later thiss year for the actual vissitation, and I will bringing another to take the potion," he warned, his barely contained rage making him involuntarily hiss. "I will make sure food, blanketsss, and other necessities for Goyle and the child are depossited daily at the entrance to the seventh level. In turn, I expect answerss for thisss."

The dementor stood for a moment over him, then it held the squalling baby towards him. Voldemort was about to dismiss the gesture when he saw what it was trying to show him - the child's eyes. They had been closed as he had laid near-death, but now they were open though narrowed with his fit.

The boy cried, but there were no tears. The eyes were completely black, even the whites, except for the center were bright green and luminescent slits could be seen glimmering out from between the long eye lashes. Both he and Goyle gawked for a moment in surprise, but he recovered first and smoothly stood up after picking up his wand where he had dropped it at after touching the child.

"You got your monster baby and your mother," he spat out. "I want my answers and expect safe passage when I next come or I will sink the island and all on it after letting them both starve to death down here."

He turned then and headed for the iron doors that led out, ignoring Goyle's pleas to not be left here alone with the monsters. "Don't think you or the things down here can defeat me, either. Should I find difficulty during my travel here for the time I bargained for, I will also stop supplies."

Angrily, he strode out of the room and encountered no problems on the way back up to the higher levels. He expected to see those documents when he got to his office and he would have Snape work with the healers to fix his thumb.

* * *

AN: Thanks you all. Updates might begin to slow down a little bit since my fevers finally broke, but I am still fully in the story. Questions? Comments? Please review!


	5. Twisting Paths

Chapter 5 - Twisting Paths

* * *

Those that worked in Colubra - once known as the Ministry of Magic - had been treading very carefully for weeks. Ever since their Lord had returned from Azkaban, he had been in a rage and was quick with punishments. The second day was the worst, though - he had killed the new receptionist because she had breathed too loudly.

The only people allowed in and out of the top floor where he kept his own office and quarters at with relative safety were Abraxus Malfoy and three fairly new Death Eaters - the two Lestrange brothers and Severus Snape. Rumors were that the Dark Lord was doing research into Azkaban so that he could destroy the dementors, but those whispers were breathed quietly and only to a few. Still, it spread out until it became fact, and others looked into old family records and such to get what scant information they had in those subjects to try to appease the Dark Lord's temper.

Abraxus had taken reigns of the government while Lord Voldemort remained busy with his research. The brothers were continually in and out with new documents and old books as well as artifacts and whatever else they could find, looking more harried as each week passed. Severus as well was looking tired, his long hair greasy from continually being over simmering potions as he sought a way to restore the Lord's dead finger. Two healers had been killed when they pronounced the appendage impossible to fix, and the third was terrified that his fate was to be the same since he could find no answer either when the young potion master had passed him the notes from the last two healers. At his wit's end, he packed up what he could in an hour and fled the country.

Snape brooded as he took turns in stirring the various potions in a room given to him to use within the Department of Mysteries. It was one of the few departments that had not been renamed after Voldemort had taken over and he had initially been glad to be put down there to experiment with and create whatever he wanted, but when Lily - innocent and pure Lily - had been imprisoned only to die horrifically, his dreams had turned into ashes. What good was it to become a famous potion master if he did not have the woman he loved by his side? Even though Potter had managed to steal her after his mistake in their fifth year, he was certain he could have won her back when she saw how cruel and rotten her husband could be. It was too late now, however, and though he had tried to bargain for her life before her sentencing, he was kept at bay with a 'We shall see how the trials go and if she can be redeemed.'

He sighed morosely and cursed his spinelessness as he added beetle eyes to the green concoction simmering in the cauldron he was in front of, then started stirring it counter clockwise. He knew very well that he was the only person mourning the beautiful and tragic Lily, her parents had died the year before and her sister Petunia most likely didn't know and care about his love's fate. He had nobody he could talk to about his loss that would be sympathetic since she was a mudblood, and even the light wizards whose sympathy did extend towards muggleborns and their ilk would not trust anything he would say to them if he expressed his regrets and wanted to switch sides. Dumbledore might have, but Dumbledore was dead.

There was the baby of course. The child that was forbidden to be talked about that anyone knew about. Lily Potter's child. He wondered what she was going to name him briefly, then shoved the thought to the side. It was James's child so there was no doubt in his mind that it would have turned out as rotten as he was. Still, he recalled the blurry memory of a tiny infant being held in a bony hand in the atrium and felt a pang in his heart that it could have been his and Lily's child had he not messed up by the lake that one day. Had James not interfered. Had he not taken the Dark Mark and stayed with her or persuaded her to join him.

He sniffed quietly and struggled to hold his tears in as he reached out for the gecko tail he had sliced up earlier to a paper thinness and carefully began to place them on the surface of the potion he was brewing. He was hoping to create a potion that would regenerate a lost limb but his heart wasn't really in it. Normally he would be working with a fascinated devotion to his craft, but he had sunk to wallow in his grief so his attention was barely on his work. It wasn't too much of a surprise to him when the potion exploded as a result and blew him back across the room since it had already happened several times in the past few weeks.

"Snape!" shouted Rookwood as he stormed into the room moments later to scowl at the young man curled up on the floor with his face buried in his dark green robe sleeve. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with you? This is the eighth time you've wrecked this lab now!"

Severus groaned as though stirring to buy himself a few precious seconds to rub his face into his sleeve like he was disoriented to get the traitorous tears out of his eyes before slowly sitting up while keeping his head down like he was embarrassed. "Sorry sir," he mumbled. "The Dark Lord has me creating a very difficult potion with extremely volatile ingredients. I am as unhappy with this result as you are, sir."

Rookwood sighed with frustration but knew he couldn't punish the broody young man - not if he was under the Dark Lord's direct orders. "Clean up the mess then and get back to work," he demanded coldly before turning to leave, slamming the door on his way out and leaving Snape to take care of everything on his own.

Severus considered doing what the healer had done a couple days back to just leave, but he knew it wasn't possible to avoid the Dark Lord's clutches. Plus, where else did he have to go? His mother had been disowned by the Prince family when she married a muggle, and his father had dranks away what money and jewelry she had brought into their marriage. She had finally killed herself when he was 15 out of depression and the need to get away from a dominating and abusive man, and his father still lived in that house though his health had been deteriorating for the past few years. Severus might have been helping it along by using his unwitting father as a guinea pig in his experiments and he didn't expect his father to live past the end of this year.

Distantly he wondered if he could time the death to the beginning of next January for his very own birthday present as he stood up and looked at the mess he had made, relieved that none of the other potions had been ruined while another part of him laughed at how pathetic he was being by wallowing in self pity. Pressing his lips together, he dismissed all of those thoughts while hoping that the strain wasn't driving him crazy and began to review his options while he started cleaning.

It was a woefully short list. There was nobody powerful enough to stand against the Dark Lord in Britain and the other countries were taking a 'wait and see' stance. Nobody wanted to fight another Grindelwald, but the longer they waited, the more likely that outcome was going to happen. Bureaucrats were blind idiots.

He had no money to run, and even if he did, there were very few who would want to take him in with his Mark. The third option of secretly working against Voldemort on his own was out since one low ranking man would not be able to do much at all against the overwhelming power and influence of the Dark Lord, and the final option of taking his own life was just too pathetic even for a useless man like him.

Of course, out of all of those, he could do something about his rank within the Dark Lord's forces and eventually become a power unto himself to use when a chance presented itself to deal a crippling blow to his Master. There would still need to be others there to finish him off, but that would mean biding his time.

Maybe the child could be used. The Dark Lord had become strangely obsessed by all of the events surrounding it. Was there more to Lily's baby than he initially thought?

Dark eyes gleaming with a new resolve, he got back to work, stirring the other potions before starting the failed one over again from the beginning. He always did think best while creating potions since it his mind would carefully think of every way anything could be used. One of the few benefits of being raised by a muggle, especially an abusive and drunk bastard like his father, was that had taught him how to think outside the box from a young age.

* * *

Voldemort seethed as he stared at his dead finger and ignored all the papers and tomes scattered out on every working surface he had in his office. The ministry had been dim-witted before he had taken over, and they had been imbeciles centuries before.

They hadn't known there had been a dark wizard in the North Sea preying on muggles for decades until the man had died and his wards had fallen to reveal Azkaban. Worse, when they had gone to investigate the "new island," they had refused to write anything in their reports except that it was too terrible to write about and that the dementors were the kindest thing they had found. They could not find the body, they did not know where the man had come from, and they weren't sure when he had settled in. They didn't even know how many muggles he had killed except that it had been in the thousands at least, and for one man in the 15th century, that was a very high number indeed.

He would have done better, though.

He snorted and shook his head while disdaining that last thought - that wizard was dead and he himself would never die. There was no point in comparing his deeds to a dead man's deeds, especially since Ekrizdis seemed to have no goal beyond killing muggles. He thought back to the depiction on the door and understood it a little better - by the timeline the man must have been rounded up in the muggle's witch burning crusade or something and was driven mad by grief. Same silly reasons that made people easy to control if you knew what buttons to press and when.

There were other things about Azkaban itself that was worrying, though. He had been wondering how it was that the dementors could live there for so long with very little souls to feed them and not want to leave; apparently there had been so much pain and tortures in those walls that the prison itself kept them well fed. The ministry had considered tearing it down on several occasions, but the reports on that was also troublesome.

The dementors would become uncontrollable and would live through the destruction as they were immortal and nobody had found a way to get rid of them, and the amount of pain and dark magic that was steeped into the stone itself gave Azkaban a form of life in the same way Hogwarts was thought to be alive. The reports of professionals believed the island had a way to protect itself, but what that was, nobody knew.

Those were theories, of course, but Voldemort was not fool enough to dismiss them, not after what he had experienced while there. The whole time he walked through the sub levels, he felt like he was being watched though there was nothing. Then there was the shadows and the echoes and nothing like that was recorded even in ancient egyptian tombs where curses and magical guardians were created to last thousands of years. He was smart enough to know that those things were but the tip of the iceberg since the dementors would have known better than to show their hand.

If they were the ones in control.

They could be the puppet of something else deeper in there, too.

Angrily, he hit the stack of papers on the desk in front of him with his arm, then stood up and took a few steps back before wandlessly blasting the desk itself, too. As splinters rained down around him, he stomped out of the room and went into the living quarters to throw himself down on the couch so he could think over his next step.

They weren't human. They didn't need food or breeding grounds. They weren't interested in riches or magic. Power didn't tempt them. But they needed the brat. And that brat was connected to him because the spell he had cast had been twisted by that damned muggleborn witch somehow when she tried to thwart him by feeding herself and her baby to the dementors.

He supposed that they had technically saved his magic by not devouring the child's soul, but when he touched and marked the infant, that connection had changed. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he had created a horcrux, but the connection didn't feel like that, either. It felt more like a leash, and he didn't know which one held it and which one was collared by it.

The link had drained his magic significantly and he had slept an entire day once he had returned back to his quarters, but it should not have caused his thumb to wither and die. His best guess for that after he had gone over the memories a few times was that the child had somehow drained a portion of his soul as well. He would have to question the dementors on that when he visited the child next; in the meanwhile he would create a list of things they would want or need for the baby to bribe them with so they would answer.

The option of destroying the island - if it could be destroyed - was out. So was killing the baby since he would end up with a severed backlash at the least. Denying them prisoners was pointless since they could just feed off the building itself.

Researching that phenomenon had led to reading a Japanese wizard's journal who had traveled the world to dispel dark creatures from muggle cities. Muggles had believed him to be a religious monk and it was long before the Statute had come into play, but he had claimed that places could soak up the memories and feelings of people if enough atrocious acts were created, and those locations attracted twisted bits of magic to them to create new life. He had theorized that was how things like the first dementors, boggarts, lethifolds, and poltergeists were created along with other odd creatures, and the reports of the dementors of Azkaban claimed that the ministry had no idea where they had come from either. It was possible that Ekrizdis had created them himself along with other things down there.

He wondered if that dark wizard had fallen to the very creatures he had created. He also wondered how that man had controlled them. It was possible that there was some kind of controlling device in the lower levels, and he recalled that there were books on the fireplace mantle.

He scowled and flung his arm over his face as he grew frustrated again. There was little information he had found, and those just brought up even more questions while intriguing him. Ekrizdis must have been an insane genius to have been able to use pain and despair to twist magic the way he had for it to have permeated the entire island the way it did. Usually magic died with its creator which was why the secrecy wards around the place had fallen all those centuries ago, but his legacy continued to live on. It was fascinating.

He ignored the knock at the door so he could to pick apart what he knew, but the door opened anyway and Abraxus stepped in. Voldemort shifted his arm slightly to see who it was then huffed with annoyance which caused the greying old wizard to pale slightly.

"Sorry, my Lord," he apologized while sweeping himself down into a low bow. Abraxus, as his right hand man, didn't need to drop to his knees. Voldemort used small privileges like that to keep his minions in line. "I did not realize you were resting or I would not have interrupted."

Voldemort lifted his arm up off his face and gave a lazy wave to dismiss the apology. "I was deep in thought, my loyal follower," he replied back before shifting to sit up on the couch. "Has there been anything else on Azkaban uncovered?"

"Not as of yet, my Lord," Abraxus said, sounding relieved since his master seemed to be in a better mood. "There has been many things sent here from supporting families, but most of it is rubbish. There was an idea that was submitted by one of the Unspeakables, however.."

Voldemort have a nod to Abraxus for him to continue when he hesitated, then reached out to pick up a cup of tea from the table that a house elf have quietly placed down for him some time while he was thinking.

"It was suggested that a small team should dive into the waters around the island to see if anything could be found," he reported.

Voldemort considered that while he took a sip then nodded again. "Whose idea was that?" he asked, wondering which family had a wizard that seemed to have his head on his shoulders. Few purebloods had practical sense so it would be interesting to take note of that.

"Robert McGonagall the Third," Abraxus said before moving to flick some invisible dust off of his shoulder disdainfully. "Graduated from Hogwarts eight years ago and entered the ministry upon finishing school. He is Minerva's nephew and son of her brother but his mother was a muggleborn so he is a half blood."

Voldemort frowned slightly as he considered that, then he leaves back on the couch and gave Abraxus a look of amusement. "So you don't think he should be rewarded for having a good idea?" he asked as the man squirmed under his gaze. "None of my purebloods have supplied a plan half as useful as that one."

The Malfoy head of family flushed with embarrassment and dropped his eyes to the black carpeted floor. "They have been busy, my Lord," he began, then bit his tongue knowing that if he continued, he'd end up writhing on the floor in pain and tried another tactic. "Though of course they should have put your interests first. Should they be punished to motivate them more?"

The Dark Lord's lips curled up into a smirk and he leaned forward to set his half empty cup down on the table. "Promote the boy to leader of the expedition," he said. "Their punishment will be to be led by a half blood, but make sure there will be no sabotage from it. If he succeeds in bringing something new back, make him second in command to whatever DOM experiment he wishes to be in, but if he fails, you can make him a janitor."

"Yes, my Lord," Abraxus replied, his tense shoulders relaxing since his punishment was averted. He thanked his silver tongue then moved on to the actual reason he came up here for.

"The proposal for the recategorization of spells is moving along smoothly," he reported, then moved to sit on the velvety green couch opposite of the Dark Lord when a gesture was made for him to do so. "It is being taken well by even those who have been opposing recent changes. They all agree that Dark, Light, and Neutral has been too vague and that offensive, defensive, beneficial, and miscellaneous should get rid of prejudices as well as make more kinds of magic tolerable to those that don't want to lean too far to the 'light' or the 'dark.' It was definitely a magnificent move on your part, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded a pleased acceptance to the compliment and gestured again for him to continue.

"There is a second matter I need to bring to your attention." Abraxus licked his lips nervously when Voldemort's eyes narrowed at him and he shook his head. "It has less to do with your ruling, my Lord, and more to do with my replacement. I am getting on in my years and believe I can only serve for another decade before I succumb to age."

Surprise flitted across the Dark Lord's face before his eyes turned scrutinizing as he looked over his lifelong companion that had served as his bed partner a couple of times during the war. The hair that used to be a platinum blonde had yellowed with age and was more white than blonde. Wrinkles lined Malfoy's face though the sapphire eyes still burned brightly with determination and gleamed with ruthlessness. He looked distinguished… but old.

"I see," Voldemort finally said, folding his hands in his lap as he feigned indifference. Time had moved on from his school days, he reminded himself, and he knew he would watch these people grow old and die once he was immortal. He chastised himself for showing surprise, but he hadn't realized this much time had passed. "Who would you suggest to take your place?"

"I have groomed my son to follow in my footsteps, my Lord," he said, pretending he hadn't caught the surprise. He'd been by his Lord's side for decades barring the time spent apart when Voldemort had traveled the world to gain more power and knew him very well. He also knew better than to point it out. "He has a Black for a wife and an infant son named Draco who will also be raised to know how to properly serve you. My family will always be by your side, my Lord."

"Very well, then," he said, keeping his tone indifferent while disdaining how Abraxus seemed to accept his own aging with grace. No doubt he was just too proud to beg for the secret to immortality, the old man was intelligent enough to know Voldemort wouldn't give it to anyone. Malfoy had probably added that last bit in to try to reassure him that he wouldn't be alone or something. He inwardly sneered at the thought of weak human emotions. "You may present your son and have him begin to accompany you up here."

Abraxus bowed deeply from his sitting position in thanks, feeling honored that his master accepted the proposition of allowing his family to eternally serve him. He hoped that his son or his grandson might be rewarded with immortality eventually, but he himself had no wish to stay stuck in an old man's body forever. "You are gracious, my Lord, and my son will serve you honorably when I retire," he reassured. "Will there be any new orders?"

"Hmm, I need a list made," he replied as he took up his cup once again and waved his hand over it so the cool tea was steaming once more. "Things that are needed to raise a child properly and keep it alive. Most likely just blankets and a nursing mother isn't enough. You can confer with your son's wife about it, I'm sure." He paused to take a sip, then tilted his head towards the door as Abraxus waited to see if there was more. "You are dismissed."

His right hand man stood up and gave him another low bow. "Your will be done, my Lord," he said, then turned to head out, leaving Voldemort alone once again to continue to work through the puzzle.

* * *

Lady Goyle huddled by the cold blue fire while sitting on top of blankets she had placed on the floor to separate herself from the scalps of human hair that had been formed into the rug that covered the main room's floor. She held the now clean and sleeping baby in her arms and despondently thought over the past few weeks.

The silence and loneliness was getting to her.

The fire, she had come to learn, actually warded off the aura of the dementors though it didn't provide warmth. She had tried feeding bit of hair she had plucked out from the scalps to see if they would burn, but the gentle and cool breeze that the blue flames created had just wafted it back towards her. Feeling bolder, she had put a finger in it to find it felt like water without the wet. It was an interesting discovery and something she had never heard of before.

The books on the mantle of the fireplace were off limits to her, though. When she had tried to pick one up after a few days had gone by, a dementor had swooped down to interpose itself between her and it. There was always at least one of them around to watch her, and any time she set the child down, they would swarm over him to reach out and run their skeletal hands over him with great care and devotion. It made her skin crawl so she kept the child tight to her bosom most of the time so she wouldn't have to see it.

The child himself was quiet and never fussed once he had stopped crying on the first day. When he would wake up, his eyes would be a beautiful emerald green that she absolutely adored, but as the days progressed and he turned towards looking around alertly, his eyes would completely shift into an inky blackness that was only broken by a very thin and bright green slit that glowed slightly though it was otherwise the color of his normal iris. She studied his eyes and noticed that he seemed to struggle on focusing with his normal eyesight but that the other one had no problem with following her fingers when she wiggled it in front of his face. Staring into the black areas would make the whispers in the darkest parts of her mind speak to her louder, however, so she avoided looking at them for too long.

He didn't giggle, smile, or play. Nor did he suck his thumb or wiggle his fingers as babies normally did. He unnerved her when he would silently stare at her like she was an insect, and the dementors didn't merit anything but a dismissive glance. Yet he seemed to somehow always be aware of where they were since he would look to the doorways moments before one would enter..

She wondered about her own brown eyed boy back at home and hoped that her husband was taking care of him properly. She didn't care about Goyle Sr - their families had arranged the marriage and it was rather hard to feel anything for a stupid and brutish lump. Not that he hurt her or anything, but their relationship at best could be called 'tolerant.' She did her thing, he did his thing, and they only shared a bed out of duty to create an heir until she got pregnant and moved into a separate room. His tastes ran towards the goats on the property anyway and she herself wasn't interested in sex at all.

Her son would hopefully not follow his father's disturbing sexual appetites though she held out little expectations for that. It was something that ran in their family line - her husband's own grandfather was incarcerated for dallying with a neighboring muggle's donkey. She shuddered in disgust and cursed at being the youngest daughter out of three since it meant she was married off into the dregs of society just to keep bloodlines pure.

Luckily, the Dark Lord had seen promise in her husband's brute strength and was willing to harness it so give him a better standing. She herself had applied for a desk position, thinking she could be a good assistant, and was surprised to have gotten hired as a warden instead. Initially she thought that maybe her father sacrificing himself in the war was the reason she was elevated to such a rank, but then she learned that it was her ability to run a large household and files papers that made her qualified. That, and nobody wanted to live in Azkaban for four weeks straight with one week off to recover from being exposed to the place.

The child in her arms ruined her life but she couldn't even think about him in a negative way or several dementors would swarm down and around her. They would also glide out of the two other doors in the room, the first one obvious while the second one was hidden by a simple optical illusion by the way the shelves on the wall were set up. It looked like an unbroken shelf until you stood almost in front of it where it revealed itself to be a short cubby with a doorway at the end.

The dementors had allowed her to explore the other rooms that connected to the main one she stayed in. The first area with the obvious door appeared to have once a bathing room with a hole in the floor to relieve one's self as they did centuries back. The deep tub for that room was carved into the stone with steps leading downwards, but the water that poured out of the faucets when tested obviously came from the sea. She had conjured fresh water with her wand instead to fill it up and heated it with several warming charms before cleaning both herself and the baby without the benefit of soaps. The dementors had brought in fresh towels from the fifth floor's storage and set them down that day without her requesting them.

The secret door, as she had taken to calling it, led to a large room that looks to have once been a lab of some kind. Trying to inspect the items or the note led to the dementors blocking her path once again, so she didn't get to dally in there long. Another door that led out from that room opened up into a large bedroom with a four poster bed in the center that had also been carved from the rock. What hangings might have once been there had long ago rotted away and there was nothing remaining of the mattress but rotted feather nibs and scraps of cloth that had fallen apart when she reached out to touch it. More shelved lined the bedroom filled with treasures and trinkets, but when she reached out to touch a beautiful emerald necklace, her wrist was grabbed by a bony hand and the dementor that did it shook its hooded head at her.

She wasn't allowed to touch or read anything. She wasn't allowed to reprimand or even internally hate the baby. She was only allowed to feed him, bathe him, swaddle him in towels, and keep him warm. If they wanted time with the child, she was to hand him over without a fuss. And she wasn't allowed to speak with it, sweetly or otherwise, nor sing to it or break the silence of the room with humming or unnecessary noise. All of that was learned in the absolute silence that had become part of her life, and all three of the dresses she had brought with her to wear had tears in them that she'd had to mend with spells when she was clawed for anything she had done wrong.

She felt like she'd been here for a year now. There was no such thing as days for her any longer, she marked the passage of time by how long she got to sleep. She was allowed to request of them things from the fifth floor storage which kept her supplied with blankets, pillows, parchment, quills, and ink, and freshly made food was apparently being provided to the dementors to bring down to her no doubt because of the Dark Lord.

She had conflicting emotions about the Dark Lord now. She didn't doubt she deserved her punishment, since she did, but she thought the time frame was too excessive for a numbing torment like this. But there was the flip side that if she did well, her life would be better. She wondered about what happened between the baby and her master, too. When he had touched the baby, she had been blinded by a flash of gold light that came from the child, then dropped him when the Dark Lord had screamed out in pain. The boy had saved himself with a burst of accidental magic that had cushioned his fall and ended up looking far healthier than he had started off as while the Dark Lord had gasped for air while on his knees. She had kept herself curled up and small hoping that he didn't notice her, and he didn't seem to. His focus had stayed on the dementors instead until he had stormed out, not even seeming to hear her ask to not be left behind.

She was thankful that the iron doors had remained shut. Sometimes there would be a scratching noise at the door like something asking to be let in, but the robes and skeletal guardians of the room ignored it. She wasn't sure how they entered and exited the living quarters since she had found no other doors leading out, but the one time she had heard voices at the door was the only time she had seen a couple leave the room to deal with whatever was out there.

She had heard her mother knocking and asking for entrance in the same way she did when she was a child. She nearly stood to obey since ignoring her mother's request would merit a slapping, then she remembered she was not a child and this was not her childhood home. When her mother's voice came again, impatient and harsh, more memories of having icy cold water dumped on her head in the middle of winter while kneeling in the snow flashed through her mind and made her whimper. Lectures of the importance of punishment without leaving marks followed that until it all went silent suddenly and she saw the two dementors that she hadn't noticed leaving come gliding back in.

It made her feel bitterly grateful to her jailors and guardians. The baby was her shackle, and she wished fervently that she could smother him and escape until a searingly chilly pain down her back made her cry out before she even got to finish thinking those thoughts.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she cried out to the screeching creature that had suddenly swooped down to leave bleeding gashes to punish her thoughts once again, another layer over half healed ones from previous times. "I won't let my thoughts wander again, please stop! I'll be a good mommy, I swear!"

Another frosty scratch to her face made her swallow her begging noises, and with tears streaking down her face to mix with the blood on her cheek, she began to tend to the baby that had woken up by being jostled.

* * *

AN: Thanks for the reviews/faves/follows once again. Here is a new chapter to show my appreciation.

Chapter 6 is going to be a two part. I have it written, hit over 6k on word count, and got to a stop point on the writing where I am currently working on chapter 7 for it. But it should answer a lot of questions and then I can move forward. Hopefully reading through it won't be too boring, I tend to get annoyed myself with too much time spent with story setup. But then again, I'm a "My writing is shit!" kind of author XD

Comments? Questions? Reactions? Please review!


	6. Questions

Chapter 6 - Questions...

* * *

Weeks moved on until it halfway through October. Lord Voldemort had Abraxus working on plans to bring in the new year with the title of King and this Christmas they were going to deck Buckingham Palace with parts of the royal family to finally take over the muggle half of the country. That side of things was moving smoothly, but the problem with Azkaban had come to a grinding halt.

Reports had come in from Warden Crouch that the dementors had been taking things from the storage and a scrawled letter was sent to him from Lady Goyle as well. It had been a request for baby clothing written in a clumsy hand. He wondered what her state of mind was, then silently applauded her for being coherent enough to even be able to write a request after living in close quarters with them for so long.

McGonagall's team had finally yielded some results as well. There were reports of a ship graveyard beneath the murky waters. Getting past the undertow below the tumultuous waves had delayed them for weeks when the first man had been caught and torn apart underwater against the island's rocks, but the enterprising halfblood had again come up with another plan. He used a transfigured pillar to split the current, and then used the small area between the whirling pool around the boulder, and where the current had had resumed its normal course, as a safe area to dive below the dangerous riptide and resurface at. There had been some bitter feelings with the purebloods on his team about his position, but Abraxus had intervened by cursing the ear off of one saying he wasn't listening well enough to the orders,, and that if the other wasn't used properly, then it too would be removed.

They had found gold and jewelry beneath the waves from old Spanish ships. There were jade antiques from Chinese traders and ivory horns from merchants dealing in Africa. Coins from the 14th and 15th century were brought up, as were other goods such as porcelain vases that had managed to survive the centuries in the dark depths. There were even a couple of magical artifacts in the way of enchanted rings and goblets - one of the boats had been carrying wedding paraphernalia, held in a magical preservation chest that contained a grimoire of family fertility spells along with a wedding dress and crystallized flowers for the bride.

What none of the boats contained were bodies. There was not a single bone found that belonged to anything that wasn't a sea creature. Further, an odd black crab had been contained to be studied, but when it was brought up, it had apparently melted into an oily slick on the surface of the water before dissipating into grey sea foam. A second one could not be found to try again, though they did spot other things in the distance that would move away or disappear when they tried to move in closer for inspection.

Obviously, whatever it was that tainted Azkaban also extended into the rocks below the surface and it had made him wonder once more how far down the labyrinthine passages went. When he had walked below, it had seemed short, but he had learned that he had been down there until almost midnight. Since there was no more that could be gathered for now, though, he had decided to make his yearly visitation this year on October 31st when magic was at its peak so he could try to trace the currents to unravel more of the puzzle.

He raised his hand to frown at his thumb, whole and healthy once again. Severus Snape hadn't informed him that the third healer had fled, but that young half blood had come through in the end by crafting a regeneration potion. It had required him to cut off the finger completely as well as half the palm to make sure that there was no lingering magic left behind that would interfere with the potion which wasn't bad, but it had irritated him that the regeneration process itself had taken weeks of drinking the foul concoction to complete. The young man was promoted as his personal potion master for his creation of another wonderful potion, warned not to hold back information on traitors, then ordered to make three more bottles of the Teleanimus Draughts. Those were now sitting on his desk next to a cage containing a rat.

He smirked at the creature and it cowered in the corner. Pettigrew had also dared to approach him a few weeks ago asking about his reward while he was walking through Colubra's atrium.

"My Lord!" a short and plump wizard shouted as he waddled over, his rodent-like teeth flashing in a smarmy smile.

Voldemort had been in the process of discussing his upcoming new year celebration for his coronation as he walked with his inner circle towards the elevators, and everyone in the atrium had frozen at the audacious nobody's shouting. Bellatrix had whipped out her wand, but when he gave her a sharp look for thinking to act before he commanded, she tucked it away just in time for the portly young man to get to them.

"My Lord," he said again, his voice no longer loud but still annoying with a simpering tone edge as he dropped to his knees but didn't bow his head. The rest of his inner circle stirred and wondered who it was that would dare to address the Dark Lord so boldly when Malfoy's son had cleared his throat.

"Peter Pettigrew, my lord," he said in a low voice. "The man that delivered the last of the Order to you."

The wizard shrunk slightly at the introduction then puffed his chest up with importance. "Yes, my Lord, I delivered the last of the blood traitors," he wheedled while rubbing his grubby hands together. "I was promised a reward, too. I came today to get my gold."

Bellatrix gave a sharp intake of breath, but nobody dared to speak when they saw Voldemort's lips quirk upwards in a charming smile. "Ah yes, I recall your service," he agreed amicably as the closest Death Eaters made sure to step to the side to they would in no way be between him and the stupid wizard that dared to show such disgrace before the ruler of England. "Such a magnificent task deserves more than just gold though, don't you think Mr. Pettigrew?"

Peter's beady eyes twinkled with greed and he scooted forward on his knees to slobber on the Dark Lord's hem and Voldemort had had to stop himself from cursing the disgusting creature to oblivion. "My Lord is the greatest wizard alive!" he proclaimed loudly, making a several people in the atrium twitter with nervous laughter as they also watched the show. "You know my value when those that called me friends dismissed me as worthless!"

Voldemort kept his smile on and nodded an agreement in a condescending manner while the stupid man didn't seem to notice the danger he was in. "Would you like to join my personal ranks to remain close to me?" he asked silkily.

"Yes, might Lord," the doomed man blubbered, no doubt imagining women and riches to an exalted position. "Anything. I will serve you loyally for life!"

"Then it's done," he pronounced as he whipped out his wand. A circular orange beam hit the wizard who had had only a moment to change his expression into one of horror before a rat was in his place, then a flick of the wand levitated the squeaking creature into the air. "Mr. Pettigrew, or shall I name you Squeakers?" At the laugh of the people around him, he smirked. "Squeakers, then. Once a traitor, always a traitor I say, and when you make a spectacle rather than go through the proper channels for a reward, you get punished. Your reward now will be to remain as my personal summoner and you shall remain in this form since I don't want to listen to your grating voice. You will remain close in a cage on my desk, and you will not annoy me while I work. Your only worth in life now is that your Dark Mark can be used to summon the people that I want around me to my quarters. Should you fail somehow in even that, you will no doubt become a wonderful dinner to one of the many snakes wandering about in these halls. Do you understand your duty?"

The rat nodded vigorously and curled itself up in a shivering ball where it hovered in the air and mocking laughter echoed throughout the atrium. "Bellatrix, be a dear and find me a nice cage for my new pet," he commanded, rewarding her with her first task since her own mistake at the prison yard.

A nice cage it was, too, he thought as he slid his wand between the bars. It was silver and encrusted with emeralds along the top, the bars all molded to look like twisting ivy with areas deliberately tarnished to give the delicate leaves more depth. "Come here, Squeakers," he demanded when the rat didn't move closer to accept the wand tip.

To teach Pettigrew a lesson, he deliberately made the summoning more painful when the rat finally crept closer. He dug the tip of his wand hard to its shoulder where the dark mark was under the brown fur while thinking about Abraxus. "Next time, don't make me tell you to get closer," he warned the quivering creature with distaste. "Now be a good little rat and go back to your corner."

The rat that was once Peter Pettigrew limped its way back into the little wood house in its cage and Voldemort went back to sorting through the New Year's coronation as he waited for the man to show up. When he did several minutes later, his son, Lucius, was also with him and he was reminded once more of his old companion's plans.

"Abraxus, if there is anything in the calendar for october 31st, cancel it. I wish to visit Azkaban on that day, and I will be needing three willing participants to join me. Let them know that the ones that live will be granted lands in Devon once the muggles in that area are rounded up, and that the choice of house is theirs and they can choose to exterminate the vermin, or they can keep them as slaves. Further, if George Goyle would like to see his wife, tell him he may accompany me to visit her."

Abraxus bowed as Lucius wrote down the orders. "It will be done," he replied as he straightened back up again. "Will there be anything else, my Lord?"

Red eyes looked over to the younger blonde man who hadn't noticed that he had become the focus of the Dark Lord. "Luciusss," he purred, then smirked when the man almost fumbled his quill.

"Yes, my Lord?" he asked with a low bow, wondering what he had done to hear his name called like that. His father beside him made a silent sigh and it worried him further.

"Has your wife finished the list I had asked for? I will be needing to look it over for the next few days."

Letting out his own small sigh of relief, he nodded. "Dobby," he snapped out, and a house elf popped in looking confused as to its surrounding before it prostrated itself when its large and bulbous eyes spotted the Dark Lord.

"Dobby is here as master commands! What can Dobby do?" he wailed in panic though the tone was muffled by the thick black carpet.

Both Malfoys cheeks colored slightly at their elf's unseemly attitude, and the younger one cleared his throat. "Collect the small green journal I have prepared on my desk, Dobby. Then you can pluck out the hair in your ears one by one until you learn proper elf behavior. We'll talk more about this later," he said while hiding his mortification.

Dobby bounced up to his feet while keeping his head hung low so he could pop out. When he came back a few seconds later, it was with the mentioned journal which he held up for the younger Malfoy to accept. "Dobby is sorry, master! Dobby won't d-"

"Enough," Malfoy Sr snapped. "Go back home now before you embarrass us further."

The house elf cringed back from the older wizard then popped out after a bug-eyed and terrified nod of his head, then Voldemort watched the two men squirm with discomfort as they waited to see if the Dark Lord would say anything. When the silence stretched out, the younger one cleared his throat and stepped forward to the desk and bowed low as he presented it.

"I apologize for the elf, my Lord, and can but hope this might make up for his caterwauling," he said, sweat breaking out on his brow. "I will be sure to punish it when I return home."

Voldemort accepted the book with one hand and used the other to point his wand at the young man while keeping his eyes on Abraxus. The man kept a passive expression up while Lucius was kept under a short crucio, the young man doing an impressive job of not screaming.

"Don't summon a disgraceful creature if it will humiliate you," he warned as Lucius shakily stood up into a bowing position once again. "Whatever happened with Moggy? Wasn't she your house elf?"

"She passed away from old age two years ago," Abraxus supplied smoothly to buy his son a little bit of time to recover. "Dobby was her replacement last year, but I think he has some mental issues. We would have replaced him except that there is a shortage of them right now."

Voldemort gave Abraxus a sharp look. "I was asking your son the question, not you," he said in a low tone that carried in a more threatening manner than Lucius's warning before he resumed his regular silky voice. "You would be under my wand for that were you not my most favored, Abraxus. However, you may let Mrs. Malfoy know that her husband will not be coming home for the next few days since I will need to break him in properly."

The color in the older man's face drained but he bowed an acceptance. "Of course, my Lord," he replied back while Lucius's eye widened in realization. "The Malfoys are always at your service."

The young man swallowed hard and followed suit by bowing lower as well, feeling both dread and anticipation for what was going to happen. He knew his father had spent some nights in their Lord's bed in the past, he recalled his father all but crawling home one morning when he was a child after such an activity. Still, the honor of saying their master found him worthy enough for physical pursuit would elevate him in the eyes of all the others and make Bellatrix, who had been trying her best with her own husband's encouraging, jealous and angry.

He smirked since since it meant that she would make more mistakes similar to what had happened in the prison yard and he would get to listen to her screams this time. Her better-than-thou attitude was insufferable since she was trying hard to get to be the one to bear him an heir, and Rodolphus was careful to use pregnancy potions when he and his brother took turns on her since the Dark Lord was not interested in women once they got pregnant according to the rumors. No doubt, with him seeking to rule the world, he would want several children of his own to help him manage all of the countries that would be in his grasp.

"Come, Lucius," the Dark Lord commanded as he stood from his seat behind the desk, and Lucius realized his father had left while he had been lost in thought. Cold sweat broke out down his back but he didn't let his nervousness show as he followed his master into the bedroom, trying not to let his imagination make this be scarier than it seemed.

His father had taken his nights with grace without complaints about the after effects. Lucius would as well.

* * *

It was Halloween and the atrium for Colubra had been decorated with the bones of both enemies and allies as it should have been in the past rather than the gaudy posters and stuffed straw figures that was used before. There was still the latter, but they were placed outside in preparation for the burning that was to happen at night to celebrate magic properly like it was in the past along with a pair of muggles to add to their own pyre since two was a significant number for Samhain. That would be followed by slitting the throats of nine more to encourage magic to grant them good opportunities in their upcoming takeover of the rest of England. Two of those nine were older muggleborn witches that had been rounded up earlier in the month just for this purpose and kept in their cells under charges of continuing the light/dark propaganda. Hopefully their half blood children wouldn't follow in those footsteps, but if they did, there would be a place for them in other rituals.

As Voldemort left through the main floo network with his entourage, he wondered if Azkaban's magic was harnessed in the same way. He had dismissed a lot of the old rituals as primitive in his youth though he encouraged it in his followers since they were keen on resuming pure blooded traditions that had been banned to them for centuries. He made a mental note to send Bellatrix to the Walburga to request use of the famous Black library as he stepped out of the floo and allowed Abraxus to clean off the ashes on his robes with a wave of his wand.

"My Lord," Crouch greeted as he dropped to his knees and bowed head head to the stone floor. The rest of the guards present followed suit "We have anticipated your visit and have a feast laid out when you are done with your business if you will allow us to serve you."

The Dark Lord was pleased by the young man's wording and he stepped forward to allow the rest of his inner circle space for when they came through, and they moved to form a semicircle as he spoke. "There is a ritual I must attend tonight at Colubra, but if there is time before that, I will honor you with my presence."

"Thank you, my Lord," he replied back humbly, then got up to his feet to do his proper duty as warden to lead Lord Voldemort and his circle down to the lower levels.

"Since my promotion, I have changed shifts so that guards also patrol the lower levels at intervals to prevent any more future problems with the dementors taking initiative with things," Crouch began, careful to keep his tone from sounding superior. "Further, as we enter the court, you'll see where we've made a patch of the yard into farmable soil so that the inmates allowed up here can work towards making a sustainable food source. Several of the guards were good in herbology and helped to create protections for the plants from the salt spray."

Voldemort gestured for the man to continue with his report, pleased by the changes so far.

"We would like to request opening up sub level once again also," he began, then stopped talking when that was met with a negative shake of the Dark Lord's head.

"That place is to remain off limits," he replied. "The ministry did not wish to give away the answer, but it contains more runes that have been seeped with centuries of anguish that powers them all throughout the corridors and the rooms. Though a team of Unspeakables in the past was investigated it, all were found dead one day in various locations throughout and nobody could determine the cause. I plan to open up investigations again soon, but until then, any uses that might be planned will most likely be met with failure."

Y-Yes, my Lord," Crouch stammered, surprised at both the story and getting an explanation and feeling smug that it appeared that this was news to the inner circle as well by the looks they exchanged with each other. When he got an encouraging nod to continue, he took a deep breath and launched into the rest of his plans. "The tower's roofs have been repaired since the ministry had been denying funds for new tile requests for the last ten years, and we are wondering if there are any additions or luxuries you would like for yourself when you visit, my Lord."

Voldemort glanced at both the patch of land and the new roofs on top of the towers while recalling that they were in a dilapidated state on his last visit, a couple even not having any left at all, then considered the request as they were guided down to the steps for the lower level. "I do not plan to be by more than a couple times a year," he answered finally, his voice echoing down the stairwell only to return back as disjointed sounds. "However, a small study doesn't sound amiss. You may confer with Lucius about the details for it and we shall see how he does."

The man named almost missed his next step on the steep stone stairs since he knew it was another test for him. He had deeply regretted the 'breaking in' process but he'd since enjoyed the jealous looks directed his way by the ignorant younger Death Eaters. Regulus had been climbing ranks quickly though through the use of the Black library, so he wasn't getting as many as he had hoped, and Narcissa had had to use her healing skills for two days supplemented by Severus's potions to get him back to normal health. He had a slight limp which was most likely permanent that he hid with the use of a decorative cane that doubled to conceal his wand.

Bellatrix let out a silent huff behind him, jealous of his attention again most likely. No doubt she wanted to claim she could do a better job, too, but she was still holding her tongue in the Dark Lord's presence. He would have to listen to her rant later, but for now he looked back at her to smirk.

The rest of the journey was made with Crouch supplying information on some of the older inmates and how he thought it might be good to have the Magical Inquiry Department, otherwise known as MID, do an overview of them since the ministry had imprisoned them prior to the new laws. Some had only killed worthless muggles that were getting above their station, after all, so no telling if the others should be kept in the prison that was beginning to become crowded.

Voldemort had agreed and told that though he was young, he was doing better in his position than his predecessor was, and that if he kept it up, there might be a promotion to Colubra for him even though his father had been part of the ministry. By the time they reached the doors for the seventh level, the young man was bursting with pride he couldn't quite contain, but the older generation felt he deserved it so it was allowed to slide.

"You all will remain here and keep to your initial orders," he commanded. "Goyle, Jones, Smith, and Limus, you four are to come with me. If you can cast a Patronus, then keep your wand out, but do not cast unless it is on my orders."

Expecting to be obeyed, he displayed his power by opening the doors with a wave of his hand and entered the dark spiraling staircase. Using the same spell as the last to pierce the gloom, he kept his wand forward and heard the four follow after Goyle gave them a prod.

Jones and Smith were purebloods that had married muggleborns and now sought to regain their standing in society by getting the rewards promised if they took the potion. Limus was a free lancing muggle born reporter that was poor and couldn't find a job with the larger papers because of his blood status.

"No matter what you hear or see down here, you are not to wander off," he warned once they reached the bottom before noticing only Jones had his wand ready for the Patronus spell. "Smith. Limus. You two are to take over the light spell. You know the one I used, correct?"

They nodded and drew their wands to bring up their own beams of light though is was much dimmer than his.

"Keep them pointed forward, stay close, and don't disturb me. I have my own spells to cast," he said, and as he started forward, he began his own series of detection spells.

The results he got as they traversed the path was like nothing he had ever felt before. The darkness breathed with its own life - it truly was Dark Magic. The deeper they went, the more it stirred, and feeling that alien and near-sentient awareness seeming to watch him made the darkness inside him want to reach out and meld with it.

He was fascinated, but that same feeling made him cautious since a part of him was willing to do anything to be able to touch that which was not,

"My Lord, is this the place?" Goyle's voice boomed out, the sound made louder by the echoes. He gave the Dark Lord a sheepish look when he snapped his neck back at the sound then blinked, aware of his surroundings.

The iron doors stood before him once again, and it unsettled him that he could not recall anything about the journey or the results of his spells as they had traveled here.

"Goyle, you are to open the doors with help from Smith," he ordered. "Do not worry about the handles as they are not poisoned. They required blood and pain to unlock."

Both men nodded and Goyle grasped his ring easily though Smith hesitated before gingerly taking his up. When they pulled, the doors swung open silently, and Voldemort stepped in to look for Lady Goyle.

She sat in front of the fire and cradled the baby to her chest, not even seeming to notice that she had visitors until he cleared his throat. He had expected her to look at him with the sound, but she instead cringed closer to the fire, shut her eyes, and silently mouthed words to herself. The dark Lord followed the movements of her lips and made out what she was silently repeating after watching her do it for a few seconds.

'Please, I'm a good mommy, see?'

"Lucinda?" her husband called out, and she held the baby tighter to her and rocked quicker. Voldemort exchanged glances with the confused man, then he gestured for him to take care of his wife and snap her out of whatever it was she was in before indicating to the other three to follow him in.

Looking up, he noticed only one dementor lazily floating above, then saw another two glide into his room on his entrance. Pulling out one of the blue vials, he nodded a greeting to them as they stood and watched him.

"Part of the deal was one answer," he informed them curtly. "But there are other questions you might answer so I brought three in case one wasn't enough. For every question you answer, I will be willing to provide more things the child will need as it grows. Do we have a deal?"

He waited as even the dementor above froze for several second, no doubt to confer with each other, then one of the two that had stepped in through the doorway bowed an agreement.

He looked at the three men by him, decided that the muggleborn was the most expendable one, and thrust the potion at him to drink. "You will go first," he said before looking at the other you. "And you will stand aside and wait your turn. Should you flee, know that what lies in wait for you out there without my protection will most likely be worse than anything that I can do to you."

All three men paled and the reporter unstoppered potion with a shaky hand. He did not know what it did and was only told that he would be able to speak on behalf of the dementors on the Dark Lord's behalf, and he only now realized that there would be more to it since the Dark Lord could have taken it himself. When he saw the ruby eyes narrow in irritation, though, he quit dallying and downed the whole thing. The empty vial dropped to the ground as he fell onto his knees then onto his face, no runic magic to keep the inert body held up.

Voldemort used his foot to roll the man over onto his back and the other two men gasped as they took a step at the white eyes that showed on the slack face.

"The question I want fully answered is this: What are you raising that boy for?"

He had carefully considered what question he would ask them and had narrowed it down to two from all of the ones that had plagued him. That one, and why touching the child had harmed him. The second could have been devised by Lily Potter while the baby was still in her womb, however, and he didn't want to waste a question by having them reply that they didn't know why. With this one, he had a higher chance to discern what was motivating their strange behavior.

It also appeared that they had been expecting it since the reply came right away, the voice whispered out from Limus's unmoving mouth.

 _To bring back that which was lost to us [...]_

He knew it wouldn't be that easy, so he pulled out the journal and flipped to the back where he had prepared a list of things the baby would need the most as he grew.

"He will need an instructor on how to perform magic if he's to be of use to you," he told the dementor in clipped tones. "What do you mean by that which was lost?"

The dementor shook its head once to show it would not answer that.

"Do you plan to use him to break our alliance?"

The choking sound that signified amusement came out from the prone man's throat, though with only a few in the room, it did not have the disastrous effects on Limus as it did on his dead healer.

 _Nooo [...] We don't want to ruuule as you do [...]_

He nodded them moved down to the next on the list. "If you plan to have the child live with people when he gets older, he will need to also learn how to socialize," he said. "Manners, conversation skills, knowledge on current affairs, and other things." He looked patiently at the dementor, and when it bowed its head that it would need such things, he continued. "We could bring children here on occasion to the prison yard though you all will need to stay away for it. That's the first proposition to address that."

The dementor stilled once again, and this time it took several minutes before the voice hesitantly began to speak.

 _What are the other options [.?.]_

"Permission for him to choose companions in the cells when he is old enough and a tutor to teach him the rest along with newspapers to read to keep up with the outside world. However, that method will most likely make him grow up to be socially awkward without the learning process all children go through when they are raised with others their own age."

 _We will take that option [...]_

"Where did Ekrizdis come from?"

 _We do not know [...] Only very little of his passst [...]_

The second sigh also conveyed a wordless sense that they offered the additional bit knowing the first reply would not be considered enough for a payment. Voldemort felt smug since he knew now that they realized it without him having to tell them as much.

He looked over the list again as he weighed what was remaining with what he wanted answered. "Fine clothing as befitting a lord while he grows up since he will need to learn how to make an impression for what you know," he offered and saw them shifts restlessly.

 _Nooo… A position [...]_

He frowned in in return since it was not something he had considered then slowly nodded an agreement and conjured a throne-like chair for him to sit on. He glanced over to where Goyle was trying to get his wife to respond to him, the hulkish man shaking her not-too-gently while whispering quietly, then he focused back to the dementors.

"His position will be merited by the answers you're willing to give, then," he told it, and it nodded in return.

 _Masster wass [...] broken||insane[grief]{hate}passionate [...] and very powerful [great wizard]. Sspoke of far landss where people killed magic and ssought to revive it all here. Their pain[terror] would be||is[always was] the fuel [...]_

"Killing magic?" he asked, hoping they could clarify, but it shook its head. "What else is down here?"

 _To reply would kill your being and would still not answer how you wish [...]_

He glanced down to Lumis and saw there was a little grey peppering the young man's hair, but aside from that, the potion was progressing how it normally did. That is, slowly consuming the soul without touching the body.

"He's just a muggleborn, do it."

A screech filled the air from the doomed man's throat, an unholy noise that would not normally be able to be produced from any living creature's vocal cords. Impending doom was felt in crashing waves as everyone, even the unresponsive Lady Goyle, clapped their hands over their ears to try to stop the assault on their brains.

The walls of the room seemed to shift within their minds though their eyes showed they that were still solid. Imaginary pulsating hypnotically drew forth the primitive instinct that every mortal creature had within them that told them they were in the presence of a greater predator. Evil was the name given by mankind, but they felt a message conveyed that evil didn't exist even as the force they heard around them screamed out otherwise. It was the fear that fed the Bogart into taking shape, the paranoia that caused grown men to jump at shadows. The despair that drove men and women to do unspeakable things that would haunt and fracture a sane soul but were done to preserve the innocent. It was the anguish felt after having free will stripped and the final desolation of knowing you would have to face death alone even as you watched your companions drop like flies in the field around you. It was something triggered by the will to live...

Then it suddenly stopped stopped and stench filled the air.

Voldemort was the first to recover and he shakily glanced around the room to find the rest huddled on the floors while quivering. He figured that was only due to the fact that he was only bothered by death and the unknown beyond it; the rest of them were weak fools who had more attachments to sentimental things.

He couldn't help but recoil slightly at the twisted and decayed remains of Lumis when his eyes fell upon him last , however . The only reason the body was in one piece was because it was also solidified in ice.

Every joint was twisted backwards with bones poking out from where they had snapped under that kind of pressure. Skin had peeled back to reveal muscles muscles that had dried up and cracked. The man's jaw must have been dislocated from the scream as it was hanging down to his collarbone, the corners of the lips torn and stretched out. His eyes were a mangled and bloody mess from where every blood vessel in them had expanded before forcefully bursting out, and he spotted the missing tongue from the gaping hole that once contained it wrapped around the man's neck. It had swollen up to three times the normal size, was the length of the entire muscle rather than just the portion that could be seen in the mouth, and had turned purple.

The only thing that appeared to have been left alone was the ears and the nose he distantly noted. The putrid smell in the air was most likely due to the release of the bowels upon dead along with the gases of various decomposition stages the whole body was under. It must have all happened at once before being frozen, he thought.

"M-my L-lord?"

He looked over to see Lady Goyle hunched forward on her knees staring at him with hope, dread, and wariness in her eyes. In her arms, the black eyed baby also stared at him as he stared at it. The child's green slits were focused on him with an uncanny awareness in them.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the update wait, but thanks for getting this story to 100+ follows ^_^ I have chapter 7 finished and it is waiting for my beta to look over, and 8 is halfway written up. Chapter 7 will be a part 2 to this, but keep in mind that Voldemort's thoughts are not fully accurate. Hopefully these two chapters will answer most of the early questions, but feel free to comment and ask if I don't have the bases I need covered when Chapter 7 gets posted some time this weekend.

To clarify a little, Lady Goyle is insane. She's pretty much unable to tell what's real and what's not anymore. How much of that is cabin fever and how much of that is Azkaban? ^.~

Voldemort is working hard to keep his temper in check. He knows he can't afford to slip up if he wants answers.

As you guys can see, I'm skipping time by months, but it will move on towards years, too. Who wants to hear a tale of a baby having to learn how to speak after all? Going to fill it in with Voldy's plans on world domination instead with meeting up with Harry here and there until he's old enough to actually do fun things with. You'll see. Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, give me a little feedback ^_^

Thanks for the reviews!


	7. And Answers

Chapter 7 - … And Answers

* * *

 _"M-my L-lord?"_

 _He looked over to see Lady Goyle hunched forward on her knees staring at him with hope, dread, and wariness in her eyes. In her arms, the black eyed baby also stared at him as he stared at it. The child's green slits were focused on him with an uncanny awareness in them._

Voldemort gripped his wand tightly as he fought the urge to kill off Goyle for showing him such a pitiful expression and tone, then once his rage was under control again, he wrenched his eyes from the boy to turn to the other two men while pulling out another one of the potions that would allow him to get more answers. The woman retreated back towards the fire and watched what was happening with wide eyes while ignoring her husband's whispered questions on why she was ignoring him.

"Drink this," he commanded as he glared at Smith, daring him to see what would happen if he hesitated or balked. The dirty blonde man shakily stood and reached out to take it without a word and Jones breathed out in relief as he recovered from the mental assault of earlier. Both men avoided looking at the frozen corpse of the unfortunate third.

Once Smith downed his potion and was lying on the floor with his eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible, Voldemort pointed to the baby. "Why can't I touch him?" he asked while frowning, the question coming out as a demand in his anger of having answers denied him for so long. "Why are his eyes like that and why won't he stop staring at me?"

 _What is the rank[position]{benefits}||rewards currently [...]_

Voldemort scowled at the question and he considered the answers he had received so far. "With the proper learning, I'll make him warden," he snapped.

 _Nooooo [...]_

Closing his ruby eyes and gritting his teeth to swallow down his frustration, he considered drinking the calming draught he had brought with him to keep from spoiling the negotiations but shoved that thought to the side. He wasn't weak and could control himself. It took him a minute to properly sift through the annoyance of not getting what he wanted, but once he did, he realized he didn't know what they wanted. Still.

"What do you want for him?" he asked cooly, settling back into his chair and resolving to stay composed so they wouldn't see another weakness again.

 _Rank||Status[equal]{Not your follower…}_

The breathed demand issued from Smith's mouth was met with silence as George Goyle looked up in shock and Jones cringed away, both men expecting an angry outburst. Lucinda kept her head down and focused on the baby though she would occasionally peek around as though reassuring herself that everyone was really there.

"Nobody is my equal," Voldemort declared, finally breaking the silence as his red eyes blazed with cold fury.

 _Similar||equivalent{Not a minion.} [...]_

He pondered that silently for a bit and studied the trinkets on the shelves as he considered the options. They were immortal beings that could not be contained or controlled but could be bargained with. At the same time, their agreements only held as long as a better offer did not come along. He could go to war with them, but the most they could do was keep them at bay, and not many of the dark families could cast a patronus. After the wars, not many people could at all. His plans to take over all of wizarding Europe over the next ten or so years would be halted if he had to also fight them off.

He could adopt the child as his magical heir and he had no worries over them being able to suck out his soul so that they could install the baby as the next ruler. Horcruxes could not be destroyed by that method and he had some kind of immunity to their aura because of the baby - not that it affected him much before. Still, he fully intended to have a hand in rearing whatever children he had to help him with his rule, and the dementors had too much control there.

"What is your agenda with the baby?" he asked without looking towards them, needing more information. He had asked something similar but their answer was vague the first time.

The dementors shifted again and the one that had been watching from above swooped down towards Lady Goyle. When she saw it coming, she laid the child on the floor and scooted backwards towards the blue flames to keep well away as it scooped up the baby so hold it.

 _Ourssss||Hisss Whatever he wantsss [wantingneedingpossesspossessed]_

The hissed words conveyed longing and yearning and the baby was held like the most delicate of treasures in a room lined with them. Voldemort felt surprised that creatures like this could feel that way about anything. It definitely was not love nor affection but it had the feel of a starving man looking upon a feast from afar knowing that he could not touch the meal yet.

Voldemort felt disgust and he hid it behind an impassive expression as he watched the third join the other two so they could reach out and brush the baby with their talons. He thought it pathetic that such powerful creatures could be controlled with such a weakness, then felt smug that he found the key to their bargaining chip.

The dementor that seemed to be the main communicator looked up at him then.

 _Wrooooong. If he diieess, he dieess. He iss not our weakness. He will be our strength if he is the right one [...]_

He cursed himself silently as he recalled they eat any positive emotions. They had apparently picked up on his smug feelings, and he realized he had to watch out better since he didn't know what else they could pick up on. But their answer to the unvoiced question just created more again to his annoyance.

"What strength could a baby give you?" he scoffed, then frowned over to the Goyles. George was shaking his wife Lucinda who had just let out a low wailing noise as she struggled to get away from him. "Stop making a fuss and let her be," he snapped to the man.

 _We do not know [...] Completion [...]_

"But my Lord, she's being-" Goyle began before his own screams of pain began when Voldemort finally unleashed the Crucio he'd been wanting to cast. Lady Goyle stared at her husband with wide eyed fascination as he screamed as she backed away a safe distance from her husband, not even seeming to recognize who he was. Jones edged back towards the table and prayed internally that everyone would continue to ignore him.

"You will be silent, Goyle, and you will keep your wife silent and make sure I am not interrupted," he warned after he cut off his curse, then turned back to the matter at hand. "I am considering him as my magical heir, but there will need to be concessions made for that."

The child hadn't taken his eyes off of Voldemort the whole time he had been held though he had fisted the ratty robes of the dementor holding him and had begun to suck on it as they silently conferred with each other in whatever method is was that they used.

 _Let him be as he will want to be [...]_

He scowled at the baby as he considered it, then curled his lip to sneer when the child pulled his fist out of his mouth to smile at him. Released the robe altogether, it waved its arms in the direction of the Dark Lord eagerly and he looked away with contempt.

"As long as he doesn't turn against me, but I expect my answers first," he agreed. "What's with that creature and why are his eyes the way they are?"

 _We Fed him first [...]_

Voldemort snapped his head back to stare at the child. "Fed him first?" he asked. "Is that why I can't touch him?"

 _Nooo [...] He was fed part of his mother's soul. It was her wish to protect him from you. It will last for 15 years before the soul is consumed [...]_

He paused again to consider the reply while watching the baby flail, silently making demands to be held by him which he ignored while the dementors reached out to stroke the baby. Their information neatly answered what occurred - her soul had tied the curse down in a different way, forcing him to allow the child to live at the risk of his own magic and soul being consumed otherwise.

"Why did you feed him that if you knew she wanted him dead?" he asked as he leaned forward, interested in the answer.

 _She asked for her child to be safe [...] She thought her child would be perished and hoped to kill you [twisted] Willingly gave herself [she was confused] Sacrifice could not be wholly consumed [love] and so it was fed. He accepted and changed [...]_

Which explained the eyes, Voldemort concluded. He wondered if the child had other things to it. "And when he finishes consuming the soul, will he be normal once again?" he asked.

 _We do not know, has never been done. Ekrizdis tried, but could not accept [...]_

The baby, red faced from its fight to get at the Dark Lord, finally let out a shrill yell of demand that made Lucinda whimper slightly as she opened her arms involuntarily to take the child though she was halfway across the room while she withdrew like she didn't want it at all. Her husband grimaced at her behavior and finally gave up his efforts of trying to get her to respond to him.

He wanted the baby dead.

The dementors shifted to stare at him and another swooped in from the double doors to take over the third's position on the ceiling. Voldemort folded his arms across his chest as he glared daggers at the child which it returned with a smile that made him shudder and look away. His eyes landed on the books on the mantle.

"What is written within those?" he asked, changing the subject but refusing to retract his wish to kill the baby.

 _Ekrizdis's journals_

Their reply was short this time without the usual breathy whisper that conveyed more by silence or concepts. They didn't like how he felt about the baby and he smirked.

 _Don't mistake our protections for love or dislike [foolish] We have purpose and this one will serve as we serve [...]_

Voldemort stood abruptly, knocking his conjured chair to the floor, and he struggled against the red he saw when they conveyed how he was human, and thus, foolish. He was no mortal nor did he have their inherent weaknesses! Shoving his hands into his sleeves to grip his wand, he sneered at them even as he squashed his anger as well.

He was attributing their actions in how they handled the child as devotion because that is what people normally did.

They were not human.

They were not motivated by the same things humans were.

"I wish to read the books," he gritted out while relaxing his grip on the wand. When they refused to respond, he drew his wand and hit Goyle with another crucio and let the sound of the man's screams take off the worst edge of his anger while staring at the child and imaging it was him.

The baby giggled, the sound carrying like bells over Goyle's screaming.

The melodic noise made Lucinda look up in shock and the dementors stare down at it.

 _[...] One page. One page, and one last question, and then we bargain further concessions._

The whisper carried through the room and it began to darken slightly. Voldemort cut off the curse and stalked over towards the mantle, kicking the fallen man when he reached him, but when he reached out for a book, the dementor above swooped down to point at the thinnest volume.

 _Others are trapped||Best chance [...]_

He glared at the creature before reaching cautiously for the it pointed to him. Their warning implied it would be trapped as well, but less so compared to the others. When his finger brushed the cover, however, nothing happened. It came free from its place with barely a sound and it was warm in his hands.

He looked around the room once more. Smith was on the floor and under the influence of the potion whereas Jones was all but under the table appearing like he was living in some nightmare while his bloodshot eyes darted about the room. George Goyle was curled up on the human hair rug while Lucinda all but cowered inside the blue fire itself as she stared off to the side with terror in her gaze. He followed her line of sight to an empty and shadowy corner, then dismissed it to walk back to his chair that he righted with a flick of his wand.

"The child's privileges will stand only as long as he doesn't betray me," he warned them as he stroked the soft and warm cover of the bound journal. Then they nodded an agreement, he looked down to observe it better.

He was correct the first time he had seen the volumes - it was bound in human skin. The skin appeared to still be alive, though, and that was where the warmth came from. He didn't even need to peer closely to see the network of blood veins that ran through the tanned flesh, and it made him wonder what spells created the nice effect.

He opened the cover carefully and flipped through the pages quickly to reveal they were much the same though thinner. Thin veins were what formed the letters and he wondered if the pages would bleed were he to stab them. He selected the page he was allowed at random and began to read.

' _I curse myself a fool for tolerating mortal whims for centuries. I built havens_

 _for the foul creatures and gave some the honor of carrying my seed, yet they_

 _only offered great betrayals that brought destruction._

 _Each day that passes I recall the sinking of Atlantis and the burial Pompeii._

 _Emrys, my firstborn, and his tainted blood causing foolish ideals that saw_

 _the elimination of my third borne's line and lands. He was taught that notions_

 _of good and evil were but mortal concepts of life and death, but he fell in with_

 _their teachings instead. I should have washed my hands then of humans and_

 _their ways, but I persisted because of magical beings._

 _Tenochtitlan_ _. What is now the Stonehenge was once where Medeis began_

 _and each block was a great portal that I crafted by which all magical people_

 _could travel and gather when the stars were aligned. Human greed tried to_

 _subjugate the elves whose magic was what powered the place, and when they_

 _fled to lands beyond, they took my city with them with my blessings._

 _I have named my new project Azkaban to strike terror into the hearts of muggles_

 _and wizards alike. If they wish for so much destruction, then shall receive it. There_

 _is power in names and locations, and I shall harness it all to show them what_

 _real terror is. Religion was the last straw… I shall raise their very own Hell_

 _on Earth, and it will be powered by them using all the techniques I learned_

 _through the_ _millenniums._ '

Voldemort became aware of his surroundings when the book was snatched from his hands. He had _been_ there to each of those locations named. Atlantis was once a grand city where humans, wizards, and magical races all lived together on a large island in the Mediterranean Sea, though it was different then than it was now. The book had drawn him in with images and he saw the beautiful buildings that reflected light from the mother of pearl inlays and the streets that were lined with bricks long before any other kingdom used them. The survivors had taken that knowledge with them and used it in other locations once Atlantis fell - a power hungry wizard that sought to rule all had tried to steal the ambient magic that maintained the city. He could not handle it, however, and his loss of control had cause the whole location to explode.

Medeis was interesting. He had gotten images of the muggle's fae to represent the elves, though they were dark skinned rather than fair and their teeth were as sharp as any goblin's teeth. Some few had doxy-like wings, but he couldn't make sense of what that meant though he had a sense that it had something to do with caste.

The Great Portals in Medeis were what filled his head. They could only be opened at nights and the black depths kept whole galaxies stored within them. He had a sense that it was to one of those that the elves fled to, and he wondered if there was relation to house elves here in any way. One again, though, it was humans that had betrayed and ruined it all.

The passages had hinted at other cities not mentioned, or rather more flickering images. Tenochtitlan had meshed with other great Egyptian cities along with the name Thoth. Emrys was Merlin himself, the greatest wizard to ever have lived. Ekrizdis had children that he watched kill each other or was killed by others, but the snapping point appeared to be religion from how the journal had made him feel.

An all consuming hatred of anything resembling religion or concepts of good and evil. He watched the last of his descendants die in the name of the Spanish Inquisition when the muggles had found their small sanctuary. They were led by a wizard named Torquemada, a muggle born that had stayed with the church that had rejected magic as evil. Still, he used it to bring down the wards around the small village just to wipe out the last of his line…

Voldemort clutched his chest at the jarring pain he felt and snarled as he fought off the waves of memories, grief, and hatred. He checked his occlumency and his magical core as he struggled against the pressure and found he was not being possessed, or at least not in the way he initially thought. The book would have consumed him wholly had it not been taken away, and he understood why they had limited him to one page. No doubt a lesser man would have been overwhelmed, and that additional thought helped him keep his own mind intact.

Whoever Ekrizdis was - and the name was not his own he had sensed - he had not been human probably. A divine being would be more accurate, but that was not right either. He had always been here from what Voldemort had sensed, and he was someone that had tried to help guide mankind before he had retreated from civilization in disgust. Something Voldemort could sympathize with.

That, or the man was stark, raving mad and had delusions that he planted in his books.

When he finally got his breathing under control, he looked up and stared at the dementors holding the baby that was still smiling at him. Was the child a descendent of Ekrizdis? He didn't think so, he had a strong sense from what he read that the last of the bloodline had been eradicated. What could kill such a powerful wizard? No doubt Dumbledore would have said hate, and he could almost believe it since reading only one rambling page had nearly consumed him with it. Did living so long cause one to be able to feel that deeply? Voldemort felt his insides quiver with revulsion and he dismissed that question with contempt.

One question. Damn them, they knew he would want to know more. They had already said they did not know where he had come from nor much of his past, and he had a feeling they had not lied. There was one question they could answer, however.

"How is the baby tied in with Ekrizdis and his plans?" he rasped out without breaking eye contact with the green pupils.

 _However he wantss to be [...] We do not plan, Azkaban does [lives] Master gave many lives for Her to be and he lives on in her [She chose]{He chose} to be and we||us obey [...]_

The last breathy word was gasped out with Smith's last life force, and Voldemort glared at the body of the dead man. He had looked to age only a couple decades, but the soul had been consumed. He pulled out the last vial and looked to Jones who was now staring in a horrified fashion at the same corner both Goyles were. Voldemort craned his neck to see what was there, and seeing nothing as before, he shook his head then shot a stinging hex at the man to get his attention.

Jones looked at the Dark Lord with terror filled eyes while his mouth worked silently up and down, and when he noticed the vial that was held out, he scrambled over on all fours to eagerly accept it. The man yanked the top open and downed the whole thing as though eager to embrace death, and when he went into the trance, there was a flicker of relief before that also smoothed out to nothing and he collapsed limply onto the rug by Smith's body.

"Concessions, then," Voldemort bit out. "And you can have whoever remains alive for I want no living beings to be able to walk out after learning all this."

At their nod of agreement, he continued. "I want more say in the child's life. If he is to have open privileges, then I want to ensure he will be loyal to me. In return, he will want for nothing and there will be nothing barred to him," he says shortly, wanting to be done with this. "Schooling with private tutors and I will see about getting him children as companions on weekends up in the prison yard. If there are more things he wants as he grows, I will see about obtaining them. In turn, I will want to come and visit when I would like, though most likely that will not occur too often until he can hold an intelligent conversation."

 _How will you ensure his loyalty [.?.]_

Voldemort smirked at the question that had a curious air to it as the child blinked sleepily, and he noticed its eyes had reverted into looking human. He raised a smooth brow at that as he replied. "By becoming one of his tutors, of course. By that age, I expect him to be able to leave Azkaban for short periods to accompany me."

The one above him screamed at that and the shuffling the rest of them did showed they were not too happy with the reply though they appeared to be deliberating over it. The child struggled briefly in the arms carrying it before the dementor adjusted its hold so that it could glare at the Dark Lord, beautiful emerald eyes changing back to green slitted ones as he focused on him. Voldemort chuckled in response.

 _With uss for company [...]_

Voldemort gave a curt nod and stood up, ready to leave this place, but his movement was enough to draw Lady Goyle's attention back to him from where she had been staring off to though her husband hadn't looked away. By his expression, he couldn't look away - whatever he was imagining was terrible enough that he dared not to.

" _My Lord_ ," she whispered, struggling to enunciate properly for her last change while glancing at the dementors as though seeking permission to speak. When they didn't even look her way, she looked up at him with tears forming in her eyes. " _Please…I beg of you…. Don't leave me here again._ They _never let me be and I am allowed no more than whispered incantations._ "

Voldemort tilted his head slightly as though considering her request, seeing a chance to learn more about his new charge. "What of the baby?" he asked. "He might be my magical heir. What have you learned of him?"

Her eyes brightened with hope, though that was still a dim star deep within the blue depths that screamed out the horrors in her mind. She edged towards him like a starved and abused dog, and when he made no move to hurt her, she kissed the hem of his robes with a silent sob.

"I b-believe he is almost blind, my Lord," she admitted, her voice rusty with disuse. "The black ones… he uses them to see. He never laughs or cries, and when he wants something, he looks to the dementors and they seem to know what he needs. He stared at me initially like I was a fascinating insect… but now I don't even warrant a glance. Is it time for me to go? I've been a good mommy, I promise."

Her voice broke at the end, and Voldemort smirked. "It is no wonder that you don't even warrant a second look from a baby," he said cruelly as he jerked his robes out from her grip and started for the door. "A good mother, however, would never request to abandon her _baby_. Your time isn't up, and if I hear you beg again, I'll fix it to where you will never be able to leave."

Her last hope disappeared as the Dark Lord blended in with the shadows outside of the doorway she would rather die slowly over rather than cross on her own. When the door began to swing shut, she screamed as she remembered one of _Them_ was in the room as well. She scrambled back to the safe haven of the fire and covered her head with her arms, resolved not to look in that direction again.

Not even when the screams of her husband and the other man who had been on the floor began. Not even after the child was placed in her arms some time later to be fed while he watched whatever was still going on with inquisitive green eyes.

The dementors fed off of happiness and caused despair. _They_ fed off of terror and caused madness.

* * *

AN: Alright, here's chapter 7 for you all. Sorry for any bad grammar, my beta is on hiatus, and I can't edit my own work or I toss it all out the window. Sad part is, I have edited a few published books, but when it comes to looking over my own things, I just can't do it.

On another note, I'm still writing up chapter 8. Unfortunately, I have my hands full with my lupus flareup which means my sadistic streak has given me the middle finger and my creativity has gone into hibernation and keeps slapping the snooze button. Hopefully I shall have it done before next weekend though and shall update the story then.

I hope that this chapter and the last one has finished answering the majority of questions. I would like to thank you all again for following and favoriting this story, but I would like to especially thank the reviewers that ask questions and give critique since it makes me try to work past my health issues to keep writing ^^

John Dark - I'm picky about my Voldy's romance, too. I'm an HPLV person, but Voldy here is just using sex as another tool of control amongst his followers and it definitely isn't going to be a LVLM fic hehe.

Luna - thanks for the Pettigrew comment! I thought it a delicious twist of irony as well!

Djberneman - That is a surprise for the future ^.~

Meowmeep and ThisIsMyLife - Thanks for the support! I shall continue to strive to create beautiful darkness =)


	8. Growing Pains

**Warning for this chapter.** Yes, I'm posting a warning especially for this chapter because I believe it can be that bad. If you have a mental disorder or have suffered from bad trauma in the past, you may not want to read this because it might trigger something. This chapter contains PTSD-like stories of abuse, emotional manipulation, gore, and hopefully and overwhelming quality of despair. For a healthy mind, it might be disturbing.

I am especially caution schizophrenics, bipolars, and people with severe depression away. I don't give warnings out lightly if previous chapters are anything to go by. They did not get special chapter warnings.

You have been warned. Skip down to A/N if you'd rather have the explanation of what happened without the psychological mess up it might cause; I left a summary there. You may want to hop down there anyway just to make sure you're okay to read this chapter if you feel a flicker of doubt about it. If you do decide to plow on and this messes with you, please remember that there are always other options and there are help hotlines that you can call if you're in a bad situation and need help.

I do not condone abuse or negligence of any kind. Ask my dog, I had to cook him, his girlfriend that I'm watching, and the whole family a wonderful meal of omurice with little cats and hearts decorated on top to get the taste of this chapter out of my head.

* * *

Chapter 8 - Growing Pains

* * *

She had come to learn that there was no such thing as time. The sun was a distant memory only allowed to her to torment her tattered mind and the moon no longer existed. For her, there was only the baby in her arms, and she had been here and with him always. She lived in the now, did not consider later, and her situation was never examined.

She could no longer associate the memories of her past as belonging to her; they were but images used to communicate with her. A small part of her tried to insist it wasn't always so, that she once had her own baby, and that she held and a position of power, but the feeling was so remote that it didn't get consciously recognized.

" _Shackles_ ," she whispered to the child as he fed from her breast. It was his name though it wasn't, a term of endearment that encompassed her feelings for him. She no longer hated him for there was pain in that route. She did not love him, for who could love such a monstrous creature? He was a _freak_ and was something that should not exist. He was also her salvation from Them.

The dementors were nothing compared to the shadows, she had learned. When the tall and white man had left that night, They had invaded the room before the iron doors had shut of their own accord. He had not even seemed to notice that They existed - she had seen how his red eyes had glanced to the corner where They had first settled at when They slipped in. Everyone else had stared, even the brutish one that had been shaking her, and she had felt envy that night when that one man was able to drink the potion to get away from It.

The imposing man had just looked away like he had seen nothing.

Shackles was the reason, of course. As long as she held him or kept him close, the feeling of impending doom would recede. The voices would not wiggle their way into her thoughts to skew reality nor would she feel like she was being stared at by something sinister that could do something worse than death to her. What that was, she had no clue, but she did not want to find out. The hulkish and stupid man had found out and he was gone.

Even with magic it had taken her hours to clean the bathroom where she had found his body after he had run shrieking from the room. The stone walls had been left with claw marks that were stained with his blood when he tried to scratch his way out. Had there been something sharp in the room, she imagined he would have used that to slit hit wrists or stab out his own throat, but in the end he had used his teeth to escape whatever it was they had done to his mind.

All of his wounds hand been self inflicted. He had gouged out his eyes and had tried to tear off his ears, but he had only succeeded with one of them which had taken her a few minutes to find. The opposite wall had shown where where the bloody flesh had splatted against before bouncing off to land on the floor. She imagined that he had probably flung it at a shadow after managing to yank it off to try to stop the voices in his head. Stupid man.

She had levitated the body to the room where the other three had been left at on the floor. The one who had imbibed the potion had had a merciful death compared to what the other had gone through - he had received the kiss and so there was no mind or soul to be tampered with. She had retreated back into the bathing room to clean up the mess the first had left behind. Upon her return, the bodies were missing, but she later noticed that the rug had increased by four more scalps that she didn't want to inspect too closely.

Slowly, she came out of the memory of that nightmarish night and looked up at the imposing dementor that was standing near her expectantly. It was their reminder of what would happen if she didn't listen or obey, so she relaxed into the aura it exuded so that it could communicate with her easier.

 _The prisoners were being made to prepare a large feast as well in case the Dark Lord ended up staying long enough to eat, and she was going over the investigation files herself to check it for any discrepancies._

She shivered as she came out of the memory that marked the beginning of her decline then considered what it wanted from her. "Paper?" she rasped out hoarsely, and when it nodded, she made herself think further. "A… letter?" That was usually what they wanted, and a second nod confirmed that. "To… the Dark Lord?" A third nod confirmed it, and the name was dimly associated to the white man with no nose that she had been thinking of.

She looked back down at the baby then carefully removed him from her breast to pat him on the back. After he burped and spit some of the milk mixed with blood on her shoulder, she set him on the rug to crawl around on so she could draw her tattered dress up to cover her cut and scarred up breasts dismissively.

It wasn't a new practice, at least not new enough for her to acknowledge any longer. She'd been feeding him her blood in that way at their insistence, and how it started was not something she wanted to remember so she complied now without their prompting. She stood up unsteadily and stumbled over to the table where a small and hot meal along with parchment, ink, and a quill waited for her.

Sinking to the floor once more, she gathered up the tools to write first. There was no point in eating since she could likely be sick depending on what they wanted.

When the feeling of a rusted nail started driving into her head, she only flinched slightly. When the memories began, she only whimpered. It was not her. It wasn't happening to her. That was a different girl from another family, it wasn't her!

She only had to write the word they wanted as fast as she could and make it as short as possible. Then she could eat and go back to Shackles.

 _Broken_ , that feeling inside her that she didn't notice whispered.

Memories of a child being beaten washed over her. As the older lady yelled at the young girl, each word used was scrawled onto the parchment.

It wasn't her.

When the older man, an uncle, leered at a teenage girl at a party and dragged her into a closet, she shuddered. Not her.

' _Time for your present, Birthday girl,' the old man said, his rank breath quickly smelling up the small room._

Not her. She wrote the next words accordingly.

" _Dirty, filthy whore! Please someone tell me-"_ began the rant of a that first woman - _mother_ , something whispered and was shut out - as she stood over her bloody daughter after beating her for being tainted.

Not my fault! Not me! She sobbed and continued to write, picking out the words wanted since they would move on to the next memory once she mentally acknowledged the one they wanted from the last.

It was an excruciatingly slow process, but she had plenty of things they could dredge up and use. Each one affected her in different ways while also dissociating herself from them. Some made her scratch at her arms when it felt like there were insects crawling under her skin because the vision made her feel filthy. Others made her want to pull out her teeth when grinding them left her with migraines.

She shrugged off most of the sensations to continue what she was told to do. None of those things happened to her; she was nobody and was always here. She knew the letter was done only when the images of a four year old girl was having peas painfully force fed to her with a spell flashed through her mind. That meant it was time for her to eat so she could continue to feed Shackles.

She dropped the quill and wrapped her arms around her midsection to dry heave off to the side. When she was done, she picked up some of the food in her shaky hand and slowly ate so that she wouldn't make a large mess.

 _Broken._

The food was bland. It should have been delicious since those that had prepared it had even cut up the steak into small portions to make it easier for her to eat. She had cut herself off from all outside sensations and had instead been seeking out sanctuary in her head. Dinner was still different from normal, though. She usually got white mushy porridge and stale bread so chewing was a different sensation. There was even fresh vegetables here.

She didn't want to question the change. It was best not to know. That ignored voice deep inside her bitterly made a remark of ' _Last Meal.'_ She just felt a twinge of relief and continued to eat.

She glanced around for Shackles once the worst of the shakes were over and she was halfway through the meal. When she saw that he was sitting by the fireplace and playing with the blue fire, she tensed up with alarm for a split second then wondered why she felt that way. Fire never hurt anyone.

Letting out a sigh, she decided she didn't want to eat any longer and started to get up so she could hold him again. He'd been crawling forever it felt like, and once she had to recover him from the workroom that she avoided when she had taken her eyes off of him long enough for him to discover that doorway. She had only been alerted to his absence by the smashing of glass when he had bumped into the table hard enough to knock over a few of the vials. When she had entered to investigate while hoping the shadows weren't there, the dementors already had him in their arms and tasked her to clean up the mess.

 _Her her had been yanked to force her face to the floor to lick up the cream she had spilled…_

She nodded robotically and stacked up the plates on the table before carrying them over to the closed iron doors. She set them on the floor where she usually set down her plates at, but when she turned again to go for shackles

 _Winter day and snow covered grounds._

" _You are tainted, whore! Aguamenti!" the older woman shrieked as she blasted water at the naked and whipped girl on her hands and knees in the small garden. "You will marry the youngest son of the Goyle family, and I don't care if he fucks goats, sheeps, or whatever. Your value is less than that of an old sow after letting your great uncle Dorian take you in the closet. You should feel honored that any pure blooded family at all wants you after that scandal, you slut!"_

" _No, mommy, please!" the girl sobbed as the water formed into a thin ice in the freezing temperature. "I didn't let-"_

" _Scourgify!" The girl's pleas were cut off and she screamed as the ice was ripped off of her skin to leave it red. "Aguamenti! We heard your screams! You loved it, you nasty slut. You're lucky you didn't get pregnant!"_

" _M-moth-ther," she chattered out as her lips began turning blue. "I d-d-didn't, it h-h-hurt!"_

" _Scourfigy!" The girl screamed again as the second scouring charm also made the ice remove patches of skin here and there when it was ripped off. "Aguamenti! Don't lie!"_

" _I'm s-s-sorry, it's m-m-y f-f-fault," she cried out, hanging her head down to shamefully hide her face with her hair. "I'll m-m-marry…"_

"Stop!" she shrieked out, only to find herself on her knees and her arms covered in scratch marks. _Filthy filthy all her fault._ Not her! "Stop. I'll bathe, please, no more!"

Shuddering, she unsteadily got to her feet and looked at the bathing room with dread. The Shadows were there. They had to be since she hadn't been in there since the day she had cleaned it and she hadn't seen them in the main room, her sanctuary room.

How long had it been?

" _Stop your sobbing, whore, and walk down that aisle. I better not see a tear when he lifts up your veil," her mother hissed viciously when she hesitated to leave the bride's room._

Hesitantly, she took a step toward the bathroom then looked back at the boy who was also watching her as intently as the dementors were. "Can I… Maybe he should bathe, too?" she asked. Permission was denied when the one she asked shifted over to block her view of him.

"He should be cleaned, too," she argued desperately while hugging herself. _Don't leave me along with Them!_ everything else inside her shrieked out.

" _Daddy, you called for me?" the girl asked as she shuffled into a rich study with her head down while plucking at the bandages on her arms since her mother had determined that she should heal the muggle way after being tormented by ice. She was never called in here and so she felt fear._

" _Lucinda," her dad said harshly, making her flinch at the tone._

"No, no, I'll go," she sobbed and stumbled back towards the bathing room. Not the name! It made the memories crowd closer. She didn't want that memory. She never wanted that memory. She knew it was worse than the name but she didn't want to know how. It was worse than cleaning up after the mess They had left in the bathroom with the man.

 _Broken._

It wasn't her! She turned around and walked to the dark doorway before pulling out her wand to put up a weak light. It barely penetrated into the room and she slowly stepped inside.

The fireplace wasn't lit with blue fire. Dimly she recalled that it was once that way long ago, then dismissed that as hopeful imagination.

"A-" she began, then had to clear her throat when her voice cracked from fear. "Aguamenti!" The creeping terror of the dark she felt made the spell she cast more powerful than normal. Shivering, she strained her ears to listen to the tub fill up since the new spell extinguished her only source of light. She wasn't even sure where the doorway was because her anxiety made her disoriented.

The room was her enemy.

There was no longer an escape.

The walls she knew that was there but couldn't see were grinding along the floor as they began to press in to keep her prisoner here.

She had to fill the tub before they got here or she would be squished.

The yellow eyes were watching to judge her.

Don't overfill the tub or you'll drown!

Don't underfill or they will drown you out of anger.

Something is tearing out of the shadows behind you!

Don't look, if you look, that makes it real.

It's not real, none of it is real!

Focus on the water! Does it sound full?

Can you trust your judgement of sound since you don't know where the walls are anymore?

How long have you been standing here?

How long have you been here?

Maybe you already bathed but you forgot since you live in the now?

Maybe there really is blue fire but you can't see because we've taken your sight.

Will you stop the water to check?

If it stops before it's full, we'll get you.

I'm right here and about to touch your back…

With a scream, she ripped off her dress and lunged forward into the bath. The cold water cleared her thoughts and she began to laugh hysterically until she clamped her mouth shut because of the laughter that returned in echoes.

 _Echoes._

She whimpered with dread at that word. Voices. Echoes. Their tools. They were here just as she had thought.

It's not so bad, right?

She shook her head as her teeth began to chatter. She tried to raise her hand that still held her wand for the warming charm, but it slipped out of her fingers and fell into the water with a small splash.

Gold eyes blinked. They weren't there.

You're dirty. _Filthy_. Scrub yourself. Maybe you'll get the taint of those memories off you. Scratching at yourself didn't help but water will. That's why your mom used it on you.

That made sense so she squatted down to completely submerger herself. She tried to start with her hair, but it was matted and knotted up. How was she to clean that? She began to work her fingers through the mess.

Stand and breathe, idiot.

She stood and gulped for the air that her starved lungs had been demanding that she had ignore in favor of trying to get clean. She really was an idiot since the voices in her head had to give her commands for even basic things like not drowning. She struggled to even out her breathing while continuing to yank at her hair to get the snarls out of it. Wasn't there a tool for this?

She slapped at the water angrily when her efforts yielded nothing but more pain, and her hand came down on her wand. Oh, yeah, that. What was that spell?

Tergium?

Oh yeah. She mumbled that and felt her hair unravel itself before wetly clinging to her skin past her shoulder blades. Already she felt a little better, so she began casting the scouring charm on herself repeatedly.

Ooooh, it burns wonderfully, doesn't it! Still, there's the filthy feeling deep under the skin, but that should be ignored because you deserve it.

She nodded an agreement.

It should be revelled in, actually. Filthy. Dirty. Contaminated. Tainted. You'll never be free of it because it lives deep inside you. Shame.

She nodded again and sank into the water until it was right below her nose while feeling humiliated. She was such a terrible being. She was worse than the freakish baby. She was the freak. She deserved what she got.

So terrible. A baby cannot help what it is nor how it is born. Isn't a good mommy supposed to protect it and live for it?

It was true. She was a terrible mom. That's why she deserved all the scars on her body that the dementors clawed onto her. She probably looked as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside.

Broken.

 _Broken_ , she agreed.

Completely broken. No longer useful. Can't even breathe on her own without being told what to do. The baby was growing and didn't need her milk any longer. He had been eating semi solids and was crawling about on his own. Dementors were there to make sure he didn't get into trouble. But she could feed him one last time. Maybe make up for her uselessness and prove that she was worth something.

A good mother gives her life for her child after all. She could do that. She would do that. It would make up for everything. Could she love him while she fed him? She could pity him for what he represented, all the broken things in life, and feel love through that way in the same way someone would hold and love a dying stray cat that had just been trampled by a horse she believed. It was good enough. She was clean enough.

She pulled herself out of the deep tub then slipped on the floor as she tried to navigate towards the light of the doorway. A towel got thrown on her head as she dazedly tried to orient herself and she saw the outline of the dementor that had come in to give it to her.

"S-sorry, it's m-m-my fault," she chattered out through blue lips and struggled to sit upright. She hadn't even realized how cold and numb she was, she realized. Broken idiot. "I'll m-m-makes up-p-p for it."

She beamed up at it like an eager child when it nodded an agreement then began to roughly towel herself to build up enough warmth so she could properly stand. When she glanced up, the dementor was holding her wand out for her, and she accepted it slowly. She hadn't even realized she had lost it again somewhere.

Idiot, cast the warming charm.

She laughed quietly at herself then muttered the spell. It really was much better than just using a towel, so she left it behind on the floor as she got to her feet. As she left the bathing chamber, she thought she'd miss it, but when the main room's shadows got darker, she felt comforted and continued towards the baby to scoop him up off the floor where he had been pulling on the rug's hair at.

He reached up and yanked her blond hair instead and she smiled down at him in return.

"Dinner, Shackles," she told him softly. _Last Meal._

With him in her arms, she climbed up onto the bone table and sat on it before looking at the dementors expectantly. When one motioned for her to lie down, she set the dark haired boy down next to her and complied. She made no motion to jerk away when the clawed and skeletal hands moved in to rend at her stomach though she couldn't help the scream of pain that came out of her throat.

"H-here," she stammered out while reaching into torn stomach with her hands. Shackles stared at her, the first time he had really watched her with any kind of fascination. He was normally so dismissive and would hardly acknowledge her in any capacity.

She felt proud and useful as her bloody fingers plucked out some small bits of torn flesh to gently poke into his mouth. She giggled at the funny face he made, but he didn't spit it back out since the taste of blood was associated with food.

Now she understood why she had had to cut herself before feeding time. The poor child. He stood no chance for whatever it was They were scheming.

"Be a good boy, Shackles," she whispered as tears began to form in her eyes while she continued to feed him. "Don't forget you're human, too. Don't let Them break you."

She felt love for him even as she groaned with pain when he reached into the ragged hole to yank out her intestines with a baby's curiosity. She continued to feed him as she felt her life slip away, and she released the rest of the blame she had also tied to him while he had kept her tied here. She felt gratitude that she was allowed to finally leave this life. Finally, she felt sadness that Shackles would be left here all alone now after having kept her company the whole time.

"Be… Good… For mommy."

* * *

A/N: Yep, it's another short chapter after making you all wait a week since this was terribly difficult to write. I'm a terrible person, but on the other hand, I'm starting to recover after being stuck in bed for over a month so I've had to catch up on house chores. My dog is getting a lot of love after writing this chapter as well. It barely missed the 4k word count mark though it's over 5k after A/N summary and warnings at the top.

I lost my grammar beta! And I believe I mentioned I am terrible at editing my own work because I will slash through it thinking it's all terrible. As a result, chapter 9 is about 2/3rds done while I sat here and snarled at trying to portray the final moments of Lady Goyle correctly. It was difficult and I cringed several times because psychological things are hard to convey properly without putting in some terrible stuff. Luckily, my second beta that originally checked for consistency agreed to grammar check for me so I was able to complete it without having to go back and mangle it some more. Thank you, Georgy!

Lady Goyle's only task was to feed the child. Now, you may wonder how it is that dementor's were able to communicate with her, but they don't just hang around people and 'get to know them' so to speak. They feed off of souls when they can or just suck out all the goodness in you and make you relive your worst memories. If they got to know those memories, though, they could try to learn how to manipulate them to convey what they want is what I theorized. It would be a terrible process, I'm sure.

The timeline for this particular chapter is May. Harry is almost 10 months old and now he's being weaned off of milk altogether to eat solids and semisolids. The dementors no longer want a broken woman about that could potentially snap one day and hurt their precious child. Enter the shadows to finish breaking her.

It was her husband who had killed himself in the bathroom rather than give in to the voices though by this point she no longer recalls him as being directly associated with her. He knew they were from an external source and sought out any means to stop their insidious ability of pulling out the worst thoughts in a person's mind to twist them to their purpose. Lady Goyle had already been giving herself over to the Dementor's influences for months and was conditioned to accept that kind of manipulation. So their thoughts became hers and she fed herself to Harry since she thought it would redeem her of the taint she felt from being forced to remember how badly abused she was while growing up. The strong woman she was before was a mask to hide behind so that she could bury all those memories that the dementors ruthlessly used to make her comply.

Reliving things a second time in a PTSD-like way can far worse when your own surroundings are a prison; it's bad enough in a supportive environment. That is the real evil behind Azkaban and why prisoners break when stuck in there long enough. That is why I also posted the warning for this chapter at the top - I have a few friends who cannot get past chapter 2 because it messes with them too hard and this chapter, in my opinion, is far worse.

So, on that note, here are replies to Chapter 7's reviews and thanks to everyone else for helping this reach almost 200 follows and over 100 faves. What does the blue number for reviews mean? Does anyone know?

Littwink - Thank you again for the reviews! Sirius is in Azkaban and it will be mentioned in the next chapter along with baby Goyle. It would have been this chapter, but I couldn't fit in Voldy's side without hitting over 10k. The weasley children, barring Ginny who was miscarried early in the term because Molly was also jailed, are in magical orphanages since there are no family members to take them in. I believe there was a passing mention about magical orphans being put into them when no family member would or could step up to take them in ^_^

Luna - Thank you again for another glowing review! I hope this chapter doesn't make you change your mind. XD

Pietro99 - I thought about the books and how Voldemort recruited them as allies. Likewise, the ministry had to have made some kind of deal with them in order for them to not go out and hunt humans on occasion. That showed me some kind of intelligence and their abilities mess with people's memories, so I thought of a hive mind that communicates with each other using concepts and ideas rather than actual words. More of that will be revealed in a couple more chapters when Harry is old enough to be able to speak and stuff, but it's also why their speech when using people is a mix of garbled words and conveyed emotions. The more they tried to force through, the less the imbiber was able to handle, and that's what devours the soul and health of a person quickly. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

StillWatersAreDeep - Thanks! I actually get cranky when people try to gripe and say how messed up I am and tend to dole out worse as punishment. As to that reviewer that antagonized you, I would have replied 'Yes, I am. If you have a problem, then don't read it.' Not that I'm the kind of person to do these things to other people, but I have seen some of the worst aspects of humanity out there. I've also seen the best. I prefer to live for the latter, but I do have a dark side I let out in harmless ways from time to time ^^

ThisIsMyLife9752, Samt, and John Dark, thank you for your reviews and encouragement. John especially, thanks for continuing to compliment the darkness!

Owari No Seiryu - Yeah, the beginning is long and it's a bit frustrating, but leaving things untied doesn't settle right for me. It's also Voldy's story also, though, and he will star in the next chapter again.


	9. Familiar face on an unfamiliar face

Just to note, I haven't abandoned this, just like I don't own Harry Potter. I do get to continue to do weird things, though.

Note that this chapter is not beta'ed nor did I properly check it over to edit properly. I tend to throw away my own chapters when I do that, this is actually the third time I have completely re-written chapter 9 for that very reason.

* * *

Chapter 9 - Familiar face on an unfamiliar face

Four years later...

He was almost five years old according to them when he discovered a way up after having decided to explore his world earlier in the year. His age was kept as a mark of time when Red Eyes would visit him, often bringing a gift of some kind or another. According to They, his very first gift was getting his other eyes fixed, but he didn't like his other eyes very much since he saw less with them in the shadows.

They were not too happy when he made the decision to leave the Home rooms, but Them was with him, which still didn't make They happy, but some of They were allowed to go up, and none could deny him anyway. He wasn't here to make Them or They happy, though Them were happy that They were unhappy, but Them and They were here to make him happy, and so any arguments about him having to stay in the normal rooms was nulled before it could make council.

Steep stairs led up to a thick and rusted iron door, but there were two little rooms to the side with cots that Them said delicious food thoughts occasionally used when they were in trouble. There were iron doors in front of those as well, but they were left open. When he searched inside to see if there was something to clue him about how to open the other door, all he saw were scratches on the walls in weird patterns, and little buckets that he couldn't figure out.

' _Bedpans and writing_!' a Them happily informed in his head, glad to be of use. He accepted it as a fact without knowing what a bedpan or writing… No, writing was the squigglies, he recalled, then dismissed the pair of rooms as having no interest to him before climbing up the stairs to try to push the door but to no avail.

They and Them refused to tell him how to open the door even after he demanded it after a few hours of him trying on his own. They just retreated back to the Home rooms and Them giggled in his head even while they wrapped themselves about him like a shadowy robe. He was left with the idea that discovering it was his own test, and so he set about to try everything a four year old could attempt to do.

He even went as far as trying to poke his finger into a small hole he found, but his finger was too big for the small hole. Taking the long journey to this point and climbing up and down the stairs finally took a toll on him, so, with a petulant frown at the obstacle in his way, he went back down the stairs for the last time to crawl into a cot and fall asleep.

The shadows he silently called Them peeled away from the robe-like shape they took on him to form a barrier on the doorway when the boy's breathing steadied to show he was asleep. Settling in to keep watch, they decided it was safe to chatter since he would not be able to hear. They didn't want to upset him by sounding like they were taunting him with information he wanted, after all.

 _Do you think he will figure it out?_

 _Not yet, he's too young!_

 _So? When has age ever mattered to Us?_

 _We are different. He is human, even if he isn't._

 _True. It's kind of cute to see Beloved try. I think I understand the human thing of parent since it none of us had to learn. We just new when we Became._

They all grew silent as they reflected on his early years together. Lady Goyle had written a missive to continue to send supplies as it would be her last letter, and that they would like for the Dark Lord to attend his birthday yearly with the first gift being to repair the boy's normal eyes for he would need them to function when he went above. Those eyes had been the only imperfection in an otherwise perfect Master, and they promised the Dark Lord a page to be read from the journal he yearned for but was wary of on each visit. When he arrived and demanded more visitations so he could read more pages, They, or as the dementors as the wizards called them, told him that more than one page would allow the book to take possession of him, and though the Dark Lord was not happy about having to do so, he heeded the warning and agreed to their demands.

Emperor Voldemort, as he had demanded to be called on the child's third birthday, didn't bother to come more than once a year after that first year. None of them were happy about how much anger and disdain the pale wizard showed towards their Master on each visit, but Beloved appeared to find those feelings highly amusing so none of them stopped it. It made the child happy, and they all lived to serve. Further, the boy's laughter about it unnerved the Emperor, and though he didn't outwardly show it, they could all sense it. They were glad when the Master was glad since they all knew it would probably be harder to appease him when he grew older.

They stilled their thoughts when they heard the door leading up being unlocked, and with a scream of the hinges, it got pulled open and dim light from above shone down. The boy on the cot behind them stirred, but did not wake up.

"God, this place is bloody creepy," a prison guard's quiet muttering came echoing down clearly. Then, in a louder voice, "You go down first, Graves, since you were the one hearing scratching at this door."

"Bloody hell," Graves cursed in a wavering voice, then steps moving forward was heard before a muscular man began to climb down the stairs.

He woke up this time, human voices being an unfamiliar sound whereas rusty doors were not, and he sent a mental inquiry to which there was no reply. Looking around. He saw Them in the doorway blocking his sight out, and theirs in.

"Uh…" Graves said hesitantly, this time not hiding the feat in his voice when he stopped halfway down the stairs because his wand light would not pierce the shadows over one of the solitary confinement doorways. "Maybe we should come back later, Moody?"

His question was met with a cackle as the door slammed shut behind him, and he turned to race up the steps to bang on the metal door even as the locks tumbled back into place. "Initiation, boy!" Trigg's voice came through maliciously.

"Open this door, you bloody bastard!" the big man screamed as he pounded his fists on it, but it took only a few seconds for the back of his neck to prickle up to the danger below, and he quickly spun around to shakily shine the light about to see if the shadows had moved.

They hadn't.

" _Oh gods,_ " he whispered hoarsely as he pressed his back up tightly to the door, not daring to move his light away from the doorway nor blink. He wasn't a man of worship, not many wizards were, but there were times you prayed fervently to anything at all that might listen, and for him, this was one of them. Since there appeared to be many gods from all time periods, he figured he would encompass them all even if he didn't know hardly any of the names. Did he know any?

' _Ekrizdis,'_ his thoughts supplied, and it sounded as good as any, so he accepted it. "Ekrizdis, p-please, if you g-get me out of here, I promise to find a temple or a church or erect one if I have t-to."

The shadows appeared to quiver with the prayer, and the boy behind it stomped angrily. It wasn't time to laugh! And why was whatever gibbering out there? It felt like a lovely caress that tickled him. Was it fear? He thought it tasted like fear, he vaguely recalled that feeling from one of the ugly creatures with Red Eyes, a human? They were playing with a human, he realized! He stomped again then reached out to push at Them to get them to budge so he could see, too!

Graves let out a yelp when he saw the outline of little hands pushing from the shadows. "A shadow demon!" he screamed, not even realizing that his pants were now damp as he half turned to claw at the door. "A demon portal! Moody! You fucking bastard, open this door or when I get out of here, I'll gut you from nose to crotch!"

When a child's laughter began to echo out, a dim recess of his mind registered him shitting his pants before his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fainted, his wand tumbling down the stairs and going out. As a result, he missed the shadows withdrawing to wrap around the boy that now resembled a pale and child-like wraith with them robing him with themselves once again.

Had Graves seen that image, he would most likely have thought that the boy was a dark creature of some kind with his slitted green eyes that were otherwise black and the pale skin that had never seen the sun which was robed in shadows that continually adjusted themselves to his movement. Had he been aware, he probably would had screamed himself hoarse as the child glided over in a manner reminiscent of a dementor on his bare feet to look down at the body sprawled down the stairs. Luckily for Graves, he was a wizard and magic kept anything worse than bruises from occurring from his fall, and luckily from him once again, he was ignored in favor of the door that was once again being unlocked.

Them shot up to the top of the stairs to block something as insignificant as a guard who was considered as nothing more than a flea in their home from being able to see their Master.

"Graves, you piss your- What the hell?!" the boy heard before Them swallowed up the guard to pin him down to the ground. He climbed over the passed out man on the stairs to triumphantly reach the top, squinting his eyes at the pain of the dim light of torches that lined the halls father down.

' _Other Eyes,'_ Them supplied to him, and he closed his eyes shut before carefully peeking out with his other eyes before blinking with surprise. Ah, now he understood why he needed them even if he didn't before. The world looked different now, grey and drab instead of warm reds and cool blues along with the occasional purple of fading heat and the guiding marks of the crystalline magic in Her.

' _Come, you want to play, too?_ ' Them asked the naked boy.

He was kind of hungry, and They said he seemed to like to eat the human when he was a baby, and They also said souls were delicious, and he always did want to try one. They explained he couldn't when They last feasted, but he wanted to see for himself, so he gracefully moved over to kneel by the man's head while Them kept him pinned down, and he felt around until he felt the mouth through Them. They opened up a small hole to expose that he wanted, and giggled in his head when the human creature started shouting again with his mouth no longer muffled.

"Help! Help! Someone! Helmmph."

He pressed his mouth over the open mouth like he saw They do on other occasions and tried to suck, but he got a mouth and lungful of the disgusting taste of a man who had not brushed his teeth for weeks at least, and turned away to gag with revulsion. Them quickly sealed the offending opening while Beloved lost what food he had in his stomach from an earlier meal They had brought earlier on in his adventures, and he was not happy about it at all.

Maybe if he tried another spot? An ear appeared then, and he poked at it with a finger before giving it a tentative lick, and did not like the taste of the wax and crust there at all. That caused the guard to violently thrash, and the boy shivered at the sensation of fear and confusion that the guard was now sending out in waves. He grinned. Another.

Them found this new game highly funny as they worked to anchor the terrified man to the floor tightly again. ' _Where?' 'Eye?' 'Beloved, the eye could be delicious! There is no crust, only slightly salty liquid as the creature cries!'_ they happily chirped inside the boy's mind, and he thought about it for a second before nodding. He was really hungry now, and he didn't mind salty and liked warm food. ' _Should they let him see Beloved?' 'Last sight for this eye would be ironically beautiful if he were to see what was coming.' 'Oooh, let's show him Beloved!'_

Them opened up, and a hazel eye wide with panic looked upon the child for the first time.

* * *

Moody went still as he looked upon a pale child with bright green eyes that looked down at him curiously, and it took him a moment longer to realize the boy wore no clothes in this cold and damp place. He shivered in the child's stead, a movement allowed by Them, then froze up with confusion as pink cherub-like lips came down.

Dread filled him next when he felt the tentative sucking, and he realized it was the boy -no, a creature that resembled a child - that had been antagonizing him while he had been trapped by darkness, and it increased into an overwhelming horror when teeth started to sink in and the sucking grew strong enough to make his eyeball move around. He squeezed his eye shut, and the mouth withdrew. He thought he was in the clear but knew it would be useless to open his eye since saliva would now make his vision blurry, but that hope was dashed when he felt small and chilly fingers begin to pry open the lids…

* * *

He had pretty much forgotten the thought of eating the soul with the amusement the human was giving him with all these feelings. Now he saw why Them came back from eating in such playful spirit, this was really fun! He was glad he found up. Them agreed with him, and found this play fun as well, so they promised to take him next time they ate. ' _If Beloved likes the eyes, they could be eaten, too!''_

With that kind of promise, he pried open the lids and then grinned at the hatred he felt now mingled in with the fear. Confusion was gone and replaced with helplessness, and that was a tasty treat as well. He leaned over again and gave the eye a tentative lick. Warm, wet, and kind of salty, but not really. He licked his lips a few times to really see if he wanted to commit to eating the eye, decided it wasn't bad like the other attempts, then dug his fingers inside to quickly pull out the eye before the lids could squeeze shut.

He and Them laughed together at the feeling of pain, Them being unable to physically hurt anybody so rarely getting the sensation unless they could get their food to hurt themselves, then he popped the eye into his mouth. It was very juicy, but it didn't have much flavor and the texture was kind of chewy. He glanced down to see red juices pouring out of the empty socket - ' _Blood,'_ Them supplied - so he licked that to see how it tasted after swallowing the eye.

 _That_ was salty, and it kind of tasted like one of the doors he had licked a little bit ago wondering what rust tasted like, and it wasn't bad. Not as good as the food They gave him, nowhere near, now that he thought about it, but the thrill he got from the sharp fear the creature exuded now that he was terrified of slowly being eaten alive gave it its own special flavor. So he licked it a few more times before sinking his teeth into the flesh under the empty eye socket, ripped it off to quickly swallow with a small hum of satisfaction, then urged them to uncover the nose figuring that would be easier to tear off.

It was.

He spit that bit out on the floor, not wanting to taste the foul breath again, but before he could go further, the man's delicious emotions cut off signifying that Moody had passed out from pain, fear, or blood loss. With a pout, he silently summoned Them to him as he stood up, and once they had settled on him, he began to explore his new settings with his new eyes.

Was all of up grey and ugly? ' _We remember brightly colored people in Master's old life.'_

Where were the people that was supposed to be up that They ate? ' _There are doors ahead. Open one, and it will lead to rows of rooms.'_

Happy to finally start getting answers once again, and Them purring in his mind with their own happiness at having made him happy, he ran down the hall until he got to the first door. He had to push really hard since it was heavy, but it was well oiled and opened up with only a squeak, and he squeezed in as soon as there was enough space for him to do so.

Now that he was in this section, he could feel more people creatures about, but their emotions were twisted and messed up already. That was no fun. He began to peer into cells as he wandered farther in, hoping to find something to play with, but they were in such terrible condition that nobody noticed him.

Until he reached a cell with something not human, anyway.

He stopped in front of the bars when he saw something black curled up on the floor shivering. Stretching out his senses to get a better reading, he could sense hunger, loneliness, and a bit of anguish from the creature on the floor, and it had not noticed his presence yet. What was it, though? ' _Puppy?'_ one tentatively offered, not sure Themselves.

Puppy? What did a puppy do? He only got a confusion from Them as well, so he wondered next how he could find out. ' _Call it?'_

Call it? He frowned as he wondered how he called it. ' _Use your scream, only in a lower voice and say Puppy.'_

He opened his mouth to try out the word a few times soundlessly, then tried it in earnest. "Puh… Puh…"

The creature's ears perked up at the same time the head snapped around to look at him, and they both stared at each other. He could sense shock from the creature that flickered to a feeling of recognition. Like the puppy creature knew him?

Them shifted uneasily around on the him, and it made the Puppy jump up and skitter away as it appeared that the child's robes were alive. He felt a dim sense of fear and another jolt of shock from the large creature, but there was a third thing there, too, as it continued to stare at him. Something gold and warm.

' _Hope? Why does it feel hope for Beloved?'_ one asked with surprise.

' _Has it met? We do not think so. We can slip inside if you would like, Beloved?'_

He furrowed his brows and gave a firm no. Puppy was his! It would be his. He just had to call it! "Puuuuh... Peee?" he tried hesitantly, and it responded with one uncertain wag of its tail. "Poopy!"

He began to frown at getting it wrong again, but the creature's mouth opened in what looked like a grin, the tongue rolling out with silent laughter. He made it happy! Was it his now? It didn't seem to understand him when he asked it that, and Them tried to muffle their own giggles. ' _It probably cannot hear thoughts,'_ one explained with amusement.

Why not? Were they stupid? ' _Kind of. You have to speak with them. It's why Red Eyes bring down people to speak with They. That is how they communicate and it's slow and loses a lot in translating thought to speech.'_

What else should he say, then? "Poopy!" he tried again since it liked that call, and it sniffed the air before taking a small and hesitant step forward. He could sense the fear it had of Them, so he poked his 'robes' with a silent demand that they go down into his shadow. Them obeyed, and it looked like they were gone. "Poopy!" he demanded this time with a small stomp.

Sirius was torn. There was a boy here, and he wondered if he finally cracked. It looked like a miniature version of James but with Lily's fierce green eyes, especially with the the last demand. He imagined that is what Harry would have looked like had Lily not been thrown into jail, and though there were the rumors years ago of the baby being ripped out of her womb by a dementor that had circulated around the prisoners, there was no way they would raise a child, right?

Yet, the evidence was in front of his eyes, and when he showed fear of the weird robes the boy wore, he removed them. What stood in front of him was a child who had obviously never been in light before, pure white save for a black mark on his belly. That mark drew him closer as he tried to discern what it was, only to see an oval birthmark there above the belly button. He also smelled blood on the boy, and that made him hesitate once again before he suddenly bound forward to make sure that Maybe Harry wasn't hurt.

He grabbed Poopy's snout when it pressed in between the bars to sniff at him in both hands. "Mmmmine!" he declared firmly, his second word spoken out loud. He wanted Poopy to know, wanted to make sure Them understood, and he planned to tell the They to stay away, but a click echoed out as She unlocked the cell door to acknowledge what Her potential Master wanted.

' _He did it!'_

' _But he's too young!'_

' _Age doesn't matter, I said! She acknowledged his command! That's the first trial passed!'_

' _It's the easiest one, though. There's still more!'_

' _I will inform the council!'_

He saw Poopy's eyes widen and felt another twinge of fear from it when one of Them shot out of his shadow to race back down to the lower levels, and it wiggled out of the hands holding its snout to back up a couple paces. He lazily blinked at the dog, then reached out to grab the bars and pulled the cell door open. "Poopy!" he demanded once more and pointed to the spot in front of him to command the creature to come to him.

Sirius whined since had no idea what he should do now. He couldn't even figure out if this was all a hallucination. He had moved forward to sniff at the illusion - do figments of the imagination have smells? - only to have his nose grabbed, and if he had blinked, he would have missed the shadow flitting off in the next second.

He didn't have a chance to deliberate further, however. Just as the boy looked as though he was going to have a tantrum, his ears picked up the sound of angry and panicked voices, and he ran out to place himself in between the child and the door out towards the corridor.

' _Eeewww, the human creatures approach. They probably found Moody and Graves,'_ Them informed him even as he whirled to keep an eye on the huge beast that stood with its back to him, hackles raised and growling at the door. So he did what any sensible four year old would do.

* * *

The party, with Crouch Jr in the lead, stopped when they saw a large grim in the corridor in front of an open cell with a tiny child yanking on its tail. Being the first one through the door, he saw it as it happened. He heard the startled yelp the creature of death gave at the unexpected contact and pull, saw it jump and give the boy a look of shock, then paled when he realized it was the Dark Lord's naked child playing fearlessly with a legendary creature of doom. His mind refused to register anything beyond that point since the scene he entered was beyond even magical weirdness, and all thoughts of the disgraced auror Moody being found mutilated earlier was completely forgotten.

The rest of the investigation crew froze as well, since they saw the Grim's head snap around to glower at them when is landed from its jump of surprise. The last two stumbled back out of the doorway while hoping they would not be dying soon, so Barty and his lieutenant were the only ones to see the boy began to laugh as though it was all a large prank, and it made the black beast look at him again. Only this time, its mouth gaped open with its own laughter.

Barty did the only thing he could think of to do - he dropped down to his knees in supplication. The only other time he had been this intimidated was in front of the Dark Lord himself. "Y-young lord, we did not mean to disturb you," he said as he heard the other guard still with him drop to his knees as well. "Was there something you needed from us?"

When there was no reply, he looked back up. The grim looked bewildered, and the child was now robed in something so black that even the light refused to reflect on it. He truly appeared like Death incarnate with the grim at his feet… or what Death would look like were he a four year old child. Barty couldn't figure out what was humorous about this situation at all.

"Candy, maybe?" he asked hopefully. When the child tilted his head curiously at the question, he reached into his robes to pull out a package of cauldron cake. He had been saving it for his lunch, but if it allowed him to not end up like the two guards who had no doubt encountered these two beings, especially with the way Moody was mauled, then he would happily sacrifice all of his cauldron cakes for the rest of his life. "It's called cauldron cake. I will gladly send these down with every one of your meals if your grim maybe won't maul any more of my guards?"

The boy appeared to step forward to eagerly accept the offering to try it, but the grim interposed itself between them and growled at him again. That is, until its master smacked it on the head. "Poopy! Mine!" the child demanded in a tone more imperious than the Dark Lord's was, but the Emperor didn't expect to have to sound so commanding to get his own way no doubt. The Grim looked ready to argue the case with the boy like a parent would a child wanting to accept candy from a stranger, but then the hallway's temperature suddenly plunged and the only two torches that were lit by the main door turned blue.

The dementors had arrived.

Barty felt the cake drop from his suddenly numb fingers down to the floor, and he began to shiver uncontrollably. The second guard was in no better state - he was whimpering and rocking where he knelt on the floor as he battled his own worst memories. Barty counted four dementors swooping in above him and he was glad he was kneeling, or he would have fallen to the floor with so many. Normally they only patrolled in pairs to keep from overwhelming their human counterparts.

It surprised him when one began to swoop down for the Grim, the boy gave an angry scream - something more common in a child of his age. The scream made all of the dementors freeze, and he numbly watched as the boy glared at the hovering creatures. They drew back slightly, like they were placating the child, and he noticed that the black canine was curled up on the floor and shivering like his own lieutenant was. Shouldn't an omen of death be immune to these things?

It was like the boy was silently communicating with the dementors while his robes swirled about in agitation. He continued to look up at them, but now his head tilted slightly like he was hearing something, then he looked down at the dog. "Mine," Barty heard him say with finality, then the child pointed at him. "Mine."

Barty wanted to draw back and run, but his body wouldn't respond because of the cold and the state he was in. So it was with a sense of hopelessness and an acceptance of his fate that he watched a dementor swoop down in front of him. He closed his eyes…

Only to open them back up again when he heard a crinkle of a package just to see the dementor offering the cake to the boy who eagerly snatched it up. He watched as the boy tried to first bite into it, wrapping and all, then blink with confusion before a quick understanding had him unwrapping the slightly mashed cake, so he could devouring it quickly.

It wasn't until after the child, the grim, and even the dementors had left and warmth began to circulate through his body that Barty dared to hope that his life was spared. When the guards that had escaped returned with more backup, they were unnerved to find their boss hysterically laughing with the lieutenant passed out next to him, and when they tried to find out what happened when he started to calm down, he would only say "Cauldron cakes!" before bursting into crazed laughter again.

* * *

A/N: So, sorry it took a month and a half to update. Not going to give a lame excuse like writer's block (love writing this too much to have one) nor work nor school. Nope. It's a simple reason, actually.

I'm a gamer. It was Easter events on my games, and then that was followed by running a choose your own adventure contest, and then I had to have some down time to rest. Plus, as I stated above, I had to rewrite this chapter 3 first two times, it followed after the last chapter's scene, but honestly, I don't want to sit there and keep writing baby Harry. That will irritate me. I just couldn't think of how I was going to fast forward until I realized that the last chapter was a great ending for baby Harry time period, I just hope I didn't leave loose knots behind.

Also, no cannibalism will not be a common occurrence, Harry did it here for the kicks. As noted, he doesn't care for the taste of raw meat even if it doesn't bother him much, but he does feel other people's emotions and enjoyed the terror that it caused. He can't eat souls like a dementor can - not unless they feed it to him - but he did pick up the way they sense their prey.

This chapter has my own weird brand of humor stamped in certain areas like the cake, but I wonder if you guys will find it funny?

So, onwards to thanks:

MissAriesFighter: Last chapter wasn't hard to write, but I had a few anxiety attacks about triggering any reader's with bad memories of the past. Your kind words helped put it at ease when I had read it, thank you.

Sly the gratsulover117: Thank you very much! I hope I continue to put out more chapters that you will enjoy.

Vindictive John Dark Fantasy: His tutors will show up soon! Shackles was Goyle's name for him, he is now free of it. :D

gabrielsangel23: Not sure about HarryxVoldy yet, I've never written slash though I do like fics with that pairing, but he won't be growing up as Voldy's kid. I tried that route in the last fic I attempted, but I'm stuck on it because writing that does not interest me.

luna: I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm sorry for the slow update and hope you like this chapter as well!

Owari no Seiryu: I'm glad you liked the last chapter and hope you enjoyed this one as well!

Lord Of Death and Destruction: I dreamt it up during fever dreams while running a temp of 104 for a week in bits and pieces, and I've been working on building a story with the pieces! Glad you like. =)

ElectraX12: Thank you!


	10. The New Pet

Chapter 10 - The new pet.

Puppy had to be carried halfway back to the Home rooms, and he squatted down by the creature when it let out a pained yelp after They dropped it on the ground. Were all puppies weak like that?

He pinched its ear to see what would happen and it opened one grey eye and groaned as it lay shivering. He frowned with dissatisfaction. _Fix it, They broke it._

The dementors shifted uneasily while his shadowy robes swirled with glee at the hesitant reaction their counterparts were demonstrating to their master. He looked up and glared at them. _Fix it!_

He got a reply from They that consisted of a mixture of emotions and concepts. A growing sense of dread. Uncertainty. Unintentional. Not what it seems.

' _They mean that they are wary of Puppy, but there is a way to make it whole again, Master,'_ Them giggled softly into his thoughts.

He knew what They meant, They just didn't want to help. He stood up and stared at them, his anger growing as They drifted about with passive protests that They really didn't think it was a good idea. Just as he was about to do something about their unwillingness to _fix his Puppy_ , one snatched up a trinket from a shelf on the wall with a feeling of reluctant defeat and floated over to offer it to him.

He snatched it up and rewarded it with a burst of happiness as he looked at what it offered. It was something cool and metal, but he couldn't make it out with his glowing eyes so he blinked a few times to switch his vision to marvel at the shimmery metal chain.

' _It's silver, Master, and called a necklace and goes around the neck,'_ Them supplied helpfully, then the usual laughter in their thoughts disappeared. ' _Humans take a lot of stock in precious metals like gold and silver because it is nice to look at, and Master has a lot down here. They can also hold spells for a long time, or even indefinitely, and this one has a protection against Our powers. Puppy will be safe from Our effects, but that will leave Master open to attacks if Puppy gets upset. And Puppy is bigger than Master, so We don't really want Puppy to wear it…'_

He considered the information for a second as he looked between the necklace and the shivering huddle on the floor, but he was only four and wanted his new toy fixed to play with so he knelt down and worked it over the huge head. The Puppy whimpered when he yanked the chain roughly over the ears, but once it was finally around the neck, the furry beast's shivering stopped and it licked his hands in return. He wrinkled his nose as he wondered why it was doing that.

' _That is how Puppy says thank you and shows its gratitude for your help, Master.'_

He eyed the dog askance while wondering what gratitude was, and it stopped licking and gave him an apologetic look with a small showed him gratitude in a small flurry of movement, crowding in close about him and the dog, and his eyes widened with surprise at the feeling he got from them as the dog got up and stood over him protectively to growl at the dementors.

* * *

Sirius stood over the small boy that looked like James and growled at the dementors while wondering what the hell was going on. He was in a large room that had blue fire in the fireplace that did nothing to help with the chilly atmosphere, a table and a chair that was made of bones, a rug of many types of fur of some kind at first glance, and the journey to this location was a hazy memory of black corridors and a pair of bobbing and slitted glowing green eyes so he had no clue where he was. That there were dementors meant he was in Azkaban most likely, and the child had put a necklace on him that cleared out the fog in his head that he had lived with for years.

Ever since the night the last of the Order members were found, anyway.

He growled louder at the dementors to stop himself from reliving those memories, then ignored when he felt his side get poked before a double handful of fur being yanked hard broke off his growling into a yelp. He retaliated by shifting himself to push the kid down so he could stand over him, then barked at the dementors who had moved in quickly at his action.

Everyone froze when they heard "No!" shouted, then Sirius folded to the ground in pain when the little bastard's foot connected with his balls from under him. He looked up through pain filled eyes so he could watch the kid smoothly stand up over _him_ and somehow got the dementors to back up against the wall without saying or doing anything. Then those green eyes turned on him and he cringed as the green eyes reminded of the time Lily caught him and James in the Gryffindor common room during their fifth year preparing to send Snivellus a birthday owl of griffon dung. They had just finished the charms to make the box explode so it would cover Snape and whatever snakes that were sitting by him when she took it away while hissing at them angrily.

The kid stood there without saying anything else, though, so Sirius decided to turn on his charm by giving a pitiful whine and a small wag of his tail. The child probably knew the way out, so he figured he could stick by him until he figured out what he was going to do next, but the pale boy didn't relent on his glare and Sirius was at a loss on what to do. Why was he brought here anyway?

Apparently the child caught the confusion in his eyes or something, because he pointed at him and said "Poopy mine!" and Sirius realized there was a mistake here - he was being brought in as a pet. He considered turning into a human to explain to the child that he wasn't a dog for real, but a second glance at the dementors made him realize now was not a good time for that, so he nodded an agreement and gave the boy a doggy grin. That appeared to make the child happy since the glare went away, then his tail got grabbed and pulled.

* * *

He was really tired of the funny smell coming from Puppy, so he decided they could both have a bath together. Grabbing the tail, he gave it a pull, and when the furry animal didn't seem to understand what he wanted, he pulled again and stomped his foot. That seemed to communicate to it since it stood up, and he moved towards the doorway off to the side and only paused to make sure that the puppy was following before switching back to his normal vision so he could see in the dark again.

As he walked into the bathing chamber, he smiled at the pretty crystalline patterns on the floor and moved over to the glowing runes by the deep basin to touch the ones that he wanted. The sound of rushing water filling the tub began to echo in the stone room, and he looked back to see the Puppy still in the doorway and it gave off waves of being too scared to step into the darkness. "Poopy!" he called out, and it whimpered before slinking in carefully with its tail in between its leg. One of They also came in to keep an eye on Puppy. Could it not see?

' _You can start the flames in here, Master, then it can see. Just command Her for fire.'_

He pursed his lips as he thought about that, then looked over to the corner where the dark fireplace that he hadn't considered before was at. Did he want fire in here? He rather liked the pretty patterns in the room and thought the blue fire would ruin it, so he decided he didn't want it. Instead, he leaned over to run his small fingers across the appropriate runes to stop the fire and reached out to grab Puppy's necklace to guide it into the water himself.

Them slipped away into the corners to watch, their golden eyes now visible, and he felt the Puppy's hackles rise as it growled at them until he used his other hand to smack the top of its head. "No," he said sternly, then pulled on the chain so they could enter the chilly water. He wrinkled his nose, though, when it made the stinky smell worse, so he burrowed his fingers into the wet fur to scrub as the Puppy whined and shivered with the cold that he easily dismissed.

He sighed after several minutes and gave it up as a loss when the smell didn't go away, then figured he would get used to it. The Puppy's feelings of fear and wariness still hadn't gone away, though, so he wondered what to do about that. He didn't like that his new creature was afraid of Home, that was something for humans, so he stared at it while wondering how to fix that. The creature flinched when its eyes met his and he frowned.

"No," he told it firmly as he reached out for its head to make it look at him again. Puppy whimpered quietly, but when he removed his hands, it didn't look away and he smiled triumphantly.

"Yes!" he told it, then patted it. It seemed to be a good move, since the smelly creature visibly relaxed, then started snuffling about his face which startled an unexpected laugh out of him. Unused to the sound, he cut it off abruptly, but he felt jealousy from Them and They that Puppy managed that, and it made him grin. It understands word?

' _Yes, Master. It is a disgusting human that turns into a Puppy,'_ Them explained with a touch of resentment. ' _It has no thought speech and cannot feel what you are feeling like other humans. We are clearly better for meeting your needs.'_

He snickered softly which made Puppy tilt his head curiously. Them and They were upset because now something else was making him happy, and just for that, he could overlook that Puppy was also a human. "N-no hoo-men," he told Puppy, stuttering slightly even when trying to speak slowly from having to use his voice for an unfamiliar purpose. "Poopy no hoomen. Good Poopy."

He felt wariness and confusion from the dog, though the fear seemed to have lessened, and its nose twitched as it whined again. "Poopy no hoomen," he said more confidently. "Poopy yes poopy!"

It seemed to understand that if the groan of resignation was anything to go by, then its grey eyes darted over to look at the golden eyes in the shadows. "Them," he explained as he pointed at the shadow, then he moved the big head in the direction of the other inhabitant of the room. "They. Ssserv… Servantsss. Poopy servant. All Mine."

' _Wonderfully done, Master!'_ They complimented as he felt dread from the Puppy. ' _Beloved will teach and train the Puppy his proper place! If he is bad, just take off the necklace and We can punish him for you?'_

He frowned and wrapped his arms around the stinky beast. "Mine," he said out loud to Them possessively,. Humans, even Puppy humans were gross, but he would train _and_ punish that out of it himself even if it meant that he had to use their speech to do so.

As if to prove his point, he pulled back from Puppy to smack his nose when it began to lick him, and this time, unlike the last, he felt gratitude and appreciation from it. "Bad, no!" he told it sternly, and it whined in reply.

He sighed and decided he was bored sitting in the water, so he stood up and climbed up the stairs to get out with Puppy rushing out ahead of him. Ignoring the spattering of water being sent his way as it shook itself off, he moved to the empty fireplace. "Fire," he said out loud, then frowned when nothing happened. Sensing unhelpful silence from the rest which he was getting used to when it came to matters of commanding other things around here, he glared at the fireplace.

"Fire!" he demanded with a stomp, and this time the blue flames whooshed into existence. Feeling triumphant, he stepped into the cool blaze and felt the water begin to evaporate from his body before the barking Poopy rushed over to knock him out. He felt fear and protectiveness from it as he stumbled out with a startled cry, then an outpouring of relief followed that when it sniffed him over that left leaving him feeling confused.

' _For humans, red fire hurts and kills them,'_ They explained quickly when he was about to burst into tears from the rough handling and the overwhelming feelings that Puppy was sending. ' _Puppy was scared Master would die.'_

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but the information calmed him down enough so he only gave a small hiccup to show the emotional turmoil he had been about to go through, then reached out to grab the worried puppy's chain. "Fire good," he said shakily, then gave the necklace a tug towards the fireplace before releasing it so he could step back inside again to dry off.

He calmed down more when he saw it give the fire a tentative poke with his nose before it also stepped in, its bulk making him move over a bit to give it space meant for one adult. Crowded together, he began to thread his fingers through the matted fur to help it dry out faster. "Good Poopy,' he told it, feeling weird that he had to compliment it to convey that it was doing something right, and caught the tail as it began to wag to help that dry, too. It was about that time when his stomach rumbled with hunger, and they both looked down at it before the beast's tongue lolled out with a doggy grin and he felt the amusement from it.

He leaned in to sniff it and noticed that its earlier smell was much less now that it was washed and dried, so he stepped away from the fireplace. The dog gave a startled bark when the shadows in the room swooped in to cover him, but he ignored that in favor of going back out into the main room so he could see what was prepared for him. As he understood it, the humans above made his meals, and they were delivered to They who then brought it down to the table for him. And yes, there was his normal bowl of porridge with bits of fruits in it, but this time there were several wrapped treats like what he human gave him and a huge plate with something brown and red in it.

He sniffed at the new plate, then turned away to start eating the treats first. ' _The steak is for Puppy, Master,'_ Them explained as he fumbled at the wrapping, and he acknowledged what they said as he sat down in his chair to eat. Them felt smug about something, and he didn't understand why until Puppy laid down at his feet and whined. Looking down, he could see it staring intently at the plate with the gross looking steak stuff and he realized he had to put the plate down for it. So he finished his cake quickly, then watched with amazement as it devoured the large pile in what seemed like a few bites.

Then it looked up at his treats. His treats! "Mine," he told it sternly as he snatched another off the table to hold to his chest, and it followed the cake's movements before meeting his glare with its own pitiful look. Them giggled in his head when he felt the look do something to his insides that almost made him relent, but at the reminder, he pushed Puppy's head to the side so that he wouldn't have to see that look.

"Mine!" he commanded this time, and then turned away to open it and eat it himself.

' _Yours, Beloved. Servants shouldn't have cakes or treats unless they've been exceptionally good,'_ Them agreed, evaporating the last of his doubts over denying the Puppy. ' _Besides, it got a steak! That is a real treat for puppies. See how it's licking the plate now?'_

He glanced down then grinned around the mouthful of cake when he saw that Puppy was doing that, pleased that they both had their own treats. Finishing his second cake, he ate his porridge next and watched as the creature began to sniff about the room curiously, saw it cringe with revulsion from his rug, then it jerked its head up to stare at him in horror. He blinked at it with confusion as to its reaction, then finished his food and stood up with a yawn. Puppy would get used to living here.

Too tired to want to move to the Sleeping room himself, he looked to They and held up his arms while sending them a silent demand. Happy to be of service, one swooped down from the ceiling and picked him up like he wanted, and he burrowed his face into its musty and tattered robed with a sigh of content, heard the puppy's angry bark and its claws run after them, and fell asleep as he was carried off.

* * *

This was just too strange to be true for Sirius as he chased after the dementor carrying the child. He had to be having a nightmare, though the steak dinner was a rather nice part. So was the bath, now that he thought about it, though it would have been better had the water been hot. He couldn't even remember the last time he got a real bath. The guards would cast _aguamenti_ through the bars when the smell got too bad, and that was the closest thing he got to being clean ever since he was locked up.

The boy's eyes had been terrifying in the dark, and it had only taken a moment to connect them to the bobbing glows he had recalled earlier. Add in that the kid seemed to be at home with furniture and rugs that was made of human bodies, though he figured someone else killed the poor people since it all looked pretty ancient, and he was at a loss to figure out how to get out of the nightmare. And if all of this wasn't a dream, he had to find out if the child really was Harry or not.

The dementor glided ahead of him, then it just seemed to disappear as it turned towards the wall. He dug his claws into the rug that was made of human hair to stop before he crashed into the wall, then realized it was an optical illusion with the hallway having deliberately been built to look like it was part of the wall until someone stood right in front of it. That was done by the shelves being put in at an angle with the items in it growing progressively larger so that they all looked the same size as the rest of the items on the shelves along the walls, though no doubt there was also some spells in effect as well, and at the far end he saw the dementor go through another doorway. Realizing that he was gaping like a muggle born seeing the Express for the first time, he shut his mouth and ran after them both.

He realized his mistake and cursed his Gryffindor side when he entered the pitch black room and slowed down his pace to use his ears to follow the rattling breathing of the dementor. It was on the opposite side of the room, so he took care in where he put his paws just in case there was something like a bottomless pit here. Even with the care, he did bump into some tables that clinked with the sound of glass on it from being shaken, and he could smell old parchment, but nothing jumped out for him. Still, he wasn't able to find where he was supposed to go until a pair of golden eyes popped up in front of him.

He yelped and scrambled backwards until he bumped another table, and something crashed to the floor and shattered. The golden eyed widened in shock as it looked down by him, and he followed its gaze to spot a glowing purple puddle beginning to fade. Oops, it looked like he broke a potion of some kind? He gave an apologetic whine even as he looked back at Them, as the boy called it, and hoped it wouldn't do something.

It looked back at him, and they both stared at each other for several seconds, neither willing to back down and both trying to figure out what the other wanted. Sirius also didn't want to get broken glass embedded into his paws unless he had to, and he had no idea what the Them were or what it wanted. He had realized after the bath that they were the shadows of the boy's robes, but they were not lethifolds nor any other kin to the dementors that he had had to read up on when he used to work as an auror. They seemed pretty harmless, if a bit spooky, so he finally relaxed and sniffed in its direction.

It had no scent so it made him wonder if it was some kind of ghost, like a poltergeist.

Deciding to take a chance, he shifted into his human form then cleared his throat when it narrowed its eyes with warning. "Yeah, yeah, no human," he joked while hoping it understood. "But I'm kind of lost and can't walk on broken glass with my paws. Is the boy okay?"

It blinked, or he thought it did since the golden orbed winked out for a split second, but there was no reply. "Can't talk then? If you understand, will you blink twice?" He grinned in triumph when it did, then nodded. "Okay, so blink once for no, twice for yes. Is the dementor going to eat his soul?"

The eyes widened with shock, then it blinked once. "Alright, so servant, right?" he asked, just to make sure. It blinked twice, bobbing while it did so which conveyed amusement, and he grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, bright eyes. Will you lead me to the boy?" It blinked once with another amused bob. "Why not? Wait, you can't answer that. If I turn into a dog again, will you lead me?" He frowned when he got another no. "Is there anything I can do so that you will lead me?"

This time, the reply was slow to come, but it finally blinked twice and Sirius got the feeling that it wanted something from him. "Hmm… Okay, before I figure out what you want, I want a question answered," he said, and he paused to make sure that it was still paying attention. "Is he… Is he really James's and Lily's son?" he asked, his voice breaking at the end.

The eyes blinked slowly twice, and he choked as he felt his heart break inside. The whispers he recalled from the guards years ago as they gossiped with each other were true, then. Their only child, and his godson, raised by dementors in the lowest depths of Azkaban. "I'm his godfather," he croaked out, confiding with the only creature that seemed willing to listen to him. "Can't I actually be with him without being a dog?"

They blinked once and narrowed at him, and he frowned in return. "Why not!" he shouted angrily as his eyes stung with tears. "Your damned Voldemort tore up the family! He's the last Potter, the son of my best friend! He-"

Sirius bit off what he was about to say as he heard the rattling breathing of dementors moving in, and he shivered even as he realized he no longer felt their effects. His hand reached up to touch the necklace, and he saw the eyes focusing where his hand was at while it blinked several times.

"You… want this and in return you'll show me to Harry?" he asked, and they blinked twice so he began to ramble as he thought about sacrificing his only protection. "That's what they were going to name him, you know, Harry because Lily didn't want Fleamont which was his grandfather's name. James was to be his middle name after his dad, and I helped Lily paint the nursery room while Wormtail… Wormtail! That bloody traitor!"

He snarled to himself as he thought about getting his fingers or even his jaws around that filthy rat's neck, and the eyes stared at him with fascination. "Alright, make the dementors go away and I'll take it off," he agreed as he stepped away from the broken glass to feel around and find a safe spot to sit. It only took a minute for the last of the rattling sounds to go away, and he reached up to start pulling off the chain before hesitating. "Is this a permanent taking off? Because I won't be able to function around dementors without it."

The eyes blinked once, and with relief, he pulled it off. When he looked back up, he almost fell over because the eyes were inches from his face, and they followed as he scrambled back. It wasn't until he heard what they said next when he realized how stupid he was in removing his protection and forgetting it on the floor somewhere, and how wrong he was in thinking they were harmless.

' _Now you're Ours for tonight,_ ' it whispered into his head as a dozen more unblinking eyes popped up all around him.

That night, Them got a fine feast of sanity, though they made sure not to break him. Sirius was Master's new toy, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And a dog could tell no tales.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter will be Voldy visiting for his birthday which will progress the story, but I thought I would throw in this one to show how he'd been growing up for the past 4 years here while settling Sirius into his new home. Just to explain a few things, Harry's slitted eyes can see in the dark, but they also see the magic imbued into Azkaban while it is dark, so that is the glowing in the room and why Lady Goyle couldn't see the runes. The dementors and the shadows have been competing for Harry's approval, so he's quite the spoiled little kid hehe. As for food, Lady Goyle's last missive to the kitchens was that he was on soft foods, so they send porridge and soups and little bits of food. Voldemort has not thought to correct that over the past few years since he doesn't see Harry eat, and Barty Jr doesn't know how to raise kids nor did he really pay attention to that aspect until he added cakes and big fat steaks to the menu to appease Death and his Grim. XD

Also, the shadows are not lethifolds. I did consider having them in Azkaban, but England is not their native homeland and Ekrizdis brought dementors. I figured he would not need both, especially since lethifolds usually suffocate their prey to death. The shadows are something of my own creation, they feed off of sanity (why the Goyles were driven insane in different ways and willing to embrace death, Goyle Sr choosing suicide) and can leave their victims catatonic. They are being gentle with Sirius since Harry did say he not belong to them, but they want to show him his proper place in the scheme of things and not usurp their master's affection for them.

As far as Moody, rather than losing his eye and nose to the war, he lost it to Harry in this story. His leg is still intact, however. I'm pretty sure I mentioned in an earlier chapter that the guards often initiated new guards by locking them down in the seventh level for a short period, and Moody being Moody enjoyed tormenting dark wizards so he was initiating the guard last chapter. He's considered a disgraced auror because they suspect his loyalty was to the light, but without evidence of him having been in the Order since he was not at the final meeting where almost all of them were rounded up, they had no evidence to toss him in.

I'm not sure who I want to make Harry's tutor just yet. I'm debating between Snape, Lupin, and Bellatrix. Who do you guys want to see? Leave a review, and thank you everyone that's been reading! I'm glad you all loved the cakes ^_^

StillWatersAreDeep - Thank you for letting me know about how to respond faster. I get super anxious about sending messages, so it's why I reply to my reviewers in this way ^^


	11. Teach Me!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, the story would not have been PG13. So it's pretty obvious I don't own it.

To clarify up some confusion, Harry never learned the names of what dementors and stuff are called since they just refer to themselves as a concept of 'us.' He understands that he is not a dementor, but he doesn't think he is a human either, so he's learned to call various things by what he vaguely knows them as.

They - Dementors

Them - the shadows that induces madness. Harry wears Them like fluttering robes which is why he was mistaken as Death and scared the guards when he had a Grim (Sirius) by him as well.

* * *

After discovering the method of opening doors and acquiring a puppy, the boy spent the following year uncovering more things in the level of Azkaban where he lived. When he wondered why he was able to find new areas that had been hidden from his sight before, They informed him that he was beginning to master his inheritance. Further inquiry into that area was met with a silence that hinted at him finding out as he learned more on his own.

Initially, he was frustrated, and puppy was the one that took the brunt of his anger. He would pull on his pet's ears or tail until a yelp would make him feel better, but that grew old quickly. Puppy never seemed to get mad at him though. Instead, it would continually try to play with him by licking his face or do silly things until he pushed the dog away, but he grew to appreciate its company and warmth. With the persuasion of Them urging him to learn how to speak, he also allowed the puppy to be a human after a few weeks went by for short periods. Very short periods since he found all the talking the Sirius-Human did was annoying.

During his explorations, he learned many new things about his home. First, it was sentient, but not in the same way he, Them, or They were. He would walk into a room that had bones scattered within it, and he would know what purpose it had served. It also explained why he just knew his rooms were Home. Each new room uncovered by order of their history, and he slowly began to understand why They refused to tell him more.

The first such room had a single skeleton dangling from the ceiling with a tarry black stain under it that was once flesh centuries ago. There was a table with rusted tools off to the side and rags in a corner, and he got a sense that he shouldn't touch anything here because it was for learning. It took a few days of returning back to the room and carefully looking at things before he could piece together the feelings he got, and the picture that formed was that this room was to learn what all was in a human body.

The next room he visited was nearly identical as the first, but the difference between the two was what was in the corner. This one had robes that were kind of the same as what the humans above wore - the ones not in cells - and that realization allowed Them to clue him in that these were magical humans while the first were muggles. He wondered if a difference was found, and was told he had to learn the scribbles to find out.

He sulked for a few days after that and spoke with Sirius a little bit. He kept trying to call him Harry initially, but finally stopped when he got angry about it. Puppy instead told him his dog name was Padfoot, and that he could be called Paddy. It was close enough to puppy for the boy to agree to the name, and Sirius was relieved that there was some progress being made.

On his fifth birthday, Voldemort came again, and They had to drag puppy off and lock him in the baths when he wouldn't stop barking and growling. The boy still hadn't figured out if the pale man with red eyes, slits for his nose, and no hair was a human or not, but it was a mystery he wanted to uncover so he didn't ask the others. He just quietly sat and stared as the person read, got angry when the book was taken from him after a page, then threw a box on the table that was meant for him before stalking out without a word.

It was too short of a time really for him to come to a conclusion still, and he wasn't happy about it, but They reassured him he would be back again. There was an undertone of amusement to it, but he knew that was from them humoring his want to find out for himself.

When he was alone, he got off of his chair to see what the gift this year was. While he worked on figuring out the box, Paddy came running out and sniffed him until one of Them covering him swatted at the cold nose in irritation. Paddy immediately sat down with his tongue hanging out and looked immensely pleased with himself, and he huffed at him in irritation before jerking his hand out of the box when he felt movement inside of it.

Looking within, there was something white and fuzzy with red eyes.

' _It's a bunny, Master!'_ Them informed him mentally when he wondered if it was food for Puppy. ' _You could try to feed it to Puppy, it's usually either a pet or a food.'_

He wondered how something could be two things like that as he reached in again to pull it out so he could look at it better. There was something around its neck with scribbles, and he frowned at that. "Shirie now!" he demanded with a look at Paddy.

The dog's form melted and grew to a raggy human's form with a puzzled look on his face. "He came here to give you a bunny?!" he asked, completely bewildered, then got a faceful of white fur when the boy thrust the rabbit in his face. "Pff, ew, fur in my mouth! Fur in my mouth! Blah. The collar says 'Billy.' I think that's the bunny's name."

The wall of speech with the grin he gave his godson was met with blank annoyance as usual, and he sighed. "Why would he give you a bunny?" he asked, hoping that Harry might reply to him this time. Anything to try to bring out the humanity in the child, though he was very careful now to not bring out the ire of the boy's guardians. The first night was a nightmare that he would never forget, so he was very careful not to take off the necklace nor push too hard so the boy took it off as punishment.

"Birfday," the boy responded. "Eat it?"

Sirius turned green and shook his head while offering the bunny back. "No thanks, it's yours, pup," he replied, wondering why Harry had such strange ideas. "Wait, it's your birthday?"

The boy didn't reply as he accepted the rabbit back. Tuning out the rest of the noises that Sirius was making, he poked the bunny a few times while keeping a strong grip on it so that it wouldn't escape while it squirmed. Deciding that fur was gross and the bunny was too small anyway, he dropped it on the floor.

"Paddy now."

Sirius cut off what he was saying and nodded in response with an inward sigh to turn back into a dog once again. When his transformation was completely, he nudged the rabbit with his nose then looked up at the boy in a silent question of what he was going to do with the bunny, but he saw that Harry was already heading out the door again to do explore some more. Seeing that he was to be left once again since he couldn't see in the darkness, he sighed and curled up around the shivering rabbit to give it what comfort he could.

Being in such a depressing and cold place, the bunny refused to eat or drink no matter what Sirius tried to do. Bringing the rabbit to Harry to try to coax him into caring for it just got him blank looks before the boy would toss the bunny thinking he just wanted to play catch with it, and as a dog, he couldn't do more than that. Bitterly, he wondered if it would have been more humane to just eat the creature when it was offered, but he knew that was just wishful thinking since there was no way he could do something as barbaric as that. It took the bunny only a few days to die, and the body rotted for a few days in a corner before it disappeared one night.

The boy would often see Paddy trying to take care of the bunny, but he couldn't understand why. It was a useless creature, not even as amusing as his own puppy was at times, and it was small. He left it to Paddy since he didn't want it, and when he saw his puppy moping after it stopped moving and started stinking, he had They get rid of it to see if it would help. When it didn't, he waited another couple days to see if Paddy would go back to being his usual self before finally demanding Sirius so that he could figure out what was wrong.

"It died, pup!" he exclaimed in anguish when asked. "Don't you know what that means?!"

There was something in Siri-Man's eyes that the boy couldn't understand when he was asked that question. "No," he told him honestly. "What is died?"

"That means there is no life! It means it won't see tomorrow again, it won't have a family, it won't have f-friends," Sirius explained, sobbing on the last word.

"Fends? Fam'ly?" the boy asked, completely confused now at the emotions that was being displayed. Water started coming out of Siri's eyes, and he reached out to touch it with his head slightly tilted, wondering about that, too.

"Yes, Ha-pup, friends and family. Like what we are!" he moaned. "Oh, what would Lily and James say?"

The boy didn't understand any of it, and Them and They were silent on the subject meaning they didn't know, either. He did know Lily, though, how could he not? "Lily is first mother," he replied back solemnly. "She dealed."

That snapped Sirius out of his grief, he blinked. "Dealed?" he asked.

"Told They to eat, but They keep me," he explained. "Then He came but They say no."

"Who is They and who came, pup?"

Harry pointed to the dementor in the room first with a short "They" then gestured to the iron doors leading out. "Him. Bunny person. Voudeemor?"

Sirius barked out a laugh suddenly. "Yeah, he is white with red eyes. Can we call him Bunnyman from now on?" he asked.

The boy felt his mouth move in response to the laugh and the question, and he withdrew his hand from Sirius's face to feel his own. His mouth was doing the same thing Sirius's did when he was happy, what is was doing now.

' _You're smiling, Beloved,'_ Them informed him, and he felt his smile widen in response as he met Sirius's eyes.

"Bunnyman," he agreed, finding this new warmth very nice from the cold he was normally content with.

* * *

He continued to explore though he did spend a little more time with both Paddy and Siri-Man. The human did still annoy him, but not as much as before. Still, the newfound happiness he discovered with his pet did not lessen his thirst for knowledge of Azkaban, so he kept leaving his puppy behind.

His next fount of information came from a room with several bones shackled to the walls. They wore rags and had long hair still stuck to the skulls, some of which had fallen to the floor when the neck bones couldn't support the odd angles the heads had hung at after death. The tables also had a few smaller skeletons, those of babies, and he learned that the room was to find out why some children had magics and others didn't when one parent was a muggle.

He returned to his own rooms when he found that out and tried to think it over, and no help came from They or Them since they didn't have babies or have that kind of problem with reproducing.

When he asked where they came from, They replied that they had spawned from The First. The First was created by The Master, an experiment that was made to guard an island from long ago. The Master tried to recreate the city here after his madness had hit, but he had built it on hate and so it was not the same. They were happy with this new home though, and were allowed to breed the numbers that were needed recently to properly inhabit it, but they needed a new Master which was to be him.

Them had replied that they came from the Madness of man. When he didn't understand the thought-words, They supplemented the information that Them were similar to poltergeists, only the magic of Azkaban and the insanity of those that resided in it gave it more form. It was why Them were incorporeal like ghosts, but had the ability to move things and such if they had enough incentive to do so.

Still, it wasn't enough information for him to come to a conclusion about the room with the babies, so he asked Sirius-Man.

"Where baby come from?"

Sirius's jaw dropped, and he stuttered a few seconds. "Uh… Er…. Uhm… What brought this on?"

"Magic baby an' no magic baby," he explained with a glance at the doors leading out.

Sirius furrowed his brows to try to make sense of the explanation, but couldn't figure it out. "Uh… well pup, you're a bit young for The Talk so uh…. Damnit James! When a man loves a woman very much… er… They lay in bed and make a baby!" He felt quite proud of his explanation until he realized that the golden eyes on the shadows that the boy wore were open and watching him curiously, and that the dementor in the room had also stilled to watch him try to explain. "Really guys?" he asked weakly.

"Dun unnerstand. Comes from bed?" There was no bed in that room.

"Uh… not exactly. See, they do it on the bed. Well, uhm… sometimes. And it doesn't always m-make a baby?" Sirius tried to explain while squirming uncomfortably. "See… uh… Well, it takes a man and a woman to make a baby. They… Ugh, why me? The man fertilized the egg inside of a woman's tummy, and the baby grows for usually 9 months, then comes out."

The boy blinked, then nodded in understanding when They confirmed that They had to rip open his first mom's tummy to get him out. "Why some have no magic?" he asked next.

"Oh, those are called squibs," Sirius said with relief, glad at the change in subject. "Nobody knows why, but sometimes babies are born without magic."

"What is magic?"

"Dang pup, all the hard questions tonight," Sirius said with a grin. "Magic is part of our lives. Those without magic cannot use it, but if you're one of the lucky ones born with it, then you can do many things that non-magics think are impossible. Things like flying, growing gills to swim underwater, turning into another animal like I do, or even changing an object into something else! There's so much that magic can do that I could tell you things for years and still not cover all of it."

The boy sat silently as he tried to process the information with the help of They and Then, then finally nodded. "Show me."

"Well, you've seen me turn into a dog, and the blue fires here are magic, and so are the creatures in this room," he said.

The boy shook his head. "No. Show me other stuff!" he demanded.

Sirius sadly sighed. "I wish I could, pup, but I don't have a wand. I need a wand to perform magic," he explained, then sighed again.

"Wand?"

"Yeah, it's a stick with a core, it lets witches and wizards - that's us - perform spells. You'll learn spells and get your own wand when you're eleven. You just turned five, so that's six more years to go," Sirius said. "My wand is either snapped or in the DMLE… or whatever Bunnyman is calling it nowadays."

He needed a wand to do magic? To turn things into animals and fly and stuff then. Sirius tried to talk to him some more, but he just tuned him out while he talked with Them and They about what was magic and what wasn't for a bit until the human fell silent.

"Teach me," he finally said, then gestured at the books on the mantle of the fireplace.

"To read and write?" Sirius asked with surprise.

"Read an' righ'," he confirmed.

And when his sixth birthday came around, he was determined to ask Bunnyman for a wand.

AN: Nope, haven't left this for dead. I edited chapter 1 and 2, most of the changes in chapter 1, but I struggled a lot with this chapter. A lot. I scrapped it 4 or 5 times, each time with over 5k words, because it kept coming out in ways I disliked. This one is under 4k words, but I was happy with the results. Chapter 12 is done also, and will be posted once it's beta'ed and checked for plot holed and inconsistencies.

Harry doesn't know human gestures like nodding and such. Dementors don't make those gestures but for the few times when they are responding to a ministry official if then, and they are the only humanoid things he has been exposed to regularly until now. With Sirius teaching Harry, he will learn his name and it will be used next chapter, but he won't be keeping it for long. Barty is going to get some weird notes asking for more supplies and stuff during this time skip like ink, quill, parchment, lesson books, and stuff like that, written by Sirius on scraps and delivered by the dementors. His last standing order from Voldemort about those things was to do as they ask, so he will only bring up the notes in his yearly report. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, sorry it took so long to come out! Not only was I having difficulties with it, but a bunch of rl stuff came up as well. I was always happy to see new follows, faves, and reviews though!

Speaking of reviews…

I love you, guest reviewer Nobody. You guessed a ton of stuff accurately, gave me wonderful critique (some of it hard to swallow, but swallow it as a bitter pill I did in hopes that I get better), and lovely compliments. The psychological was hard for me to write because it had victimization/self blame triggers, and that made me feel bad, but it was to try to show what the shadows do.

Being imprisoned in Azkaban for too long makes people violently insane - something that canon's dementors are blamed for though they are only supposed to be the equivalent of extreme depression. So I created the shadows to explain that portion, how it can twist the depression and self loathing into something more by getting in their heads and messing with it if they are started to go crazy. They keep themselves hidden, all it takes is closing their 'eyes' and staying in the darker areas. Since the cells are poorly lit, they are free to flit in and out to toy with people's heads, and it's why those that are secured in the lower areas are affected worse.

Votes on who teaches Harry - Snape and Bella are pretty much tied, and I liked one of the reviewers of both, so expect them to show up in the chapter after the next!


	12. The Horcrux

Title - The Horcrux

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, one of the merchandise would be a large and creepy life-sized dementor plushy. Since I can't find one, I don't own the Harry Potter stuff nor the things associated with it. I'll probably sew one up though. Eventually. It still won't be an official item, though.

The Dark Emperor crumpled up the latest report from Azkaban in his thumbless hand, and it wandlessly set on fire as he threw it across the room. Who wrote demands for the lowest level. Was it the boy?! How? He wasn't even six yet and had nobody to teach him! He glared at the hand that was maimed almost six years ago when he touched the boy and silently seethed for a minute. He had tried to fix that, but all of the potions, healers, and spells could do nothing for it. He planned to make a prosthetic for it, but infiltrating other countries was eating up his spare time.

Cold realization doused his hot anger. Either someone was with the boy teaching him things, or the boy was learning things through another means. He had finally come to the conclusion that the Potter child was his horcrux over a year ago and got him a bunny since it was one of the things the kids in the orphanage he grew up in seemed to like, and having an unknown might have influence over his horcrux was unacceptable. The boy was his now, he never forgot that told the boy's mother he would train the kid to be a ruthless killer. It still stung that he could not touch what was his nor take the boy from Azkaban without the dementors retaliating. Further, the book he had been reading hinted that there was more to the place than it just being a prison though he had to work through a lot of gibberish in the single page he got a year to get that much from it.

He needed to find out which of the two options it was before he could decide what to do.

He thrust his wand into the cage containing the rat, Pettigrew, and used the mark to summon both Malfoys. As he waited for the blondes to arrive, he thought over potential options for both scenarios. Either way, it would need to be something that the child's guardians would agree to.

"My lord," they greeted.

"Rise," he ordered as he stood to start pacing. "Abraxus, I want you to find me an Unspeakable that is both loyal and won't be missed. Gather Bellatrix as well, a mother figure won't be too bad and she's been clamoring to be in my bed hoping to bear my heir since the beginning. Lucius, you're coming with me to Azkaban."

"My lord?" Abraxus asked, confident enough in his years of service to try to ask for further details, though not brave enough to ask a question that would clarify it. He flinched when Voldemort hissed with irritation.

"What about those orders were not specific?" he snapped. "I don't have time, leave now, Abraxus. Lucius, come."

Relieved that he was not punished, Abraxus quickly departed to obey while Lucius followed his master to the fireplace so they could floo to the docks to take the boat to the wizarding prison. Voldemort didn't say a word as they crossed the choppy waters, choosing instead to dwell over how many problems the dementors and his Horcrux were causing him.

The boy should have been his from the beginning. He wasn't sure what had happened on that night long ago when he felt the spell drain, but he was sure that Lily Potter was the cause of it. She had warped the spell somehow, most likely with the goal of sucking his life out at the cost of both hers and the unborn child's life, but his other horcruxes had kept him grounded. The boy instead ended up with a portion of his soul, making him a horcrux, but one with a different connection than the others had that he still hadn't figured out. He was wary of trying to possess the boy to delve into the connection further though because of what happened from physical contact.

Azkaban was a good place to keep his sixth horcrux safe, but he didn't trust the dementors. There were so few books and such little research done that he couldn't determine if they were waiting for Lily's protections to come off before sucking out the boy's soul, and if that happened, he wasn't sure if they could devour his and the rest of his horcruxes the same way through the odd connection. Those worries and stopped his war efforts from extending his rules beyond England, Wales, and Ireland, but he had allied with Russia and had resorted to infiltrating Germany and France, slowly using his spies to spread anti-muggle sentiments while promoting pureblood agenda. With the recent reports though, he was done letting have the dementors have full control over his horcrux, and he was going to take a more active role in how it was going to be raised.

Or rather, have his most loyal and his most competent do that, since he could acknowledge that he had no idea what to do with a kid didn't want one underfoot. A couple times a year was more than enough for him to leave a lasting impression on a child.

The accidental horcrux also annoyed him - his initial research into making Hogwarts a horcrux had taken a lot of his time only for him to conclude that a whole location wasn't possible unless it was made of solid stone like Azkaban was. He was going to try the main ward stone instead, but he couldn't find out where that was located. He could have hired Gringotts for that, but then they would have known the location, and he wasn't going to go with that method. Three years he searched, three years wasted, and three years spent studying his connection with the boy from a distance before he finally concluded what he had initially denied out of absurdity of what should have been impossible.

When the boat docked at the fortress, it was a meek Lucius that followed the Dark Emperor. The guards all but stumbled in their haste to bow before their ruler, and one ran to tell the warden that he was here on an unannounced visit. When Barty hastened to greet him, he had to run to catch up with the Dark Lord on the fourth level just as he was demanding the release of one of the prisoners from another guard.

"My Lord!" he gasped out, struggling to bow and try to catch his breath at the same time. "What can we do for you?"

" _Crucio!"_ he snarled out after whipping out his wand so fast that it was but a blur. Only when Barty's screams had echoed for a full minute did Voldemort stop the curse. "Did you not think that I would want to know when new missives came in from below?"

"I d-didn't know, my L-lord," the warden groaned out as he rolled over to try to get onto his knees. "W-was told to obey-"

Voldemort cut off the excuses with another curse, though it was shorter than the first. "For yearsss there were no lettersss," he hissed, his anger making his parseltongue more pronounced. "Are you sso incompetent that you did not thing that unussual? You have failed me, Barty. Much like your predessessor. How will you make up for that to sssave your misserable life?"

"Take my life if it pleases you, m-master," he sobbed. "I live to serve, but my mistake proves my incompetence."

Blood red eyes narrowed in study to watch the young man's body shake from the pain and the sobs. "Look me in the eye and beg again," he demanded, then smiled at the scream that ripped out of Barty's throat when he instead tore into his warden's mind to judge his sincerity.

Finding that Barty was fully loyal and that he was prepared to die for his master mollified Voldemort, and he released his mind. "I will excuse you only after you make up for your mistake, but only after I see what damages need to be mended, first," he stated more calmly. "You may find your position to be that of communication with the dementors if it's bad enough."

Barty paled but nodded at the threat. Nobody would forget what had happened to the Communicators when they took the potion that first night after the boy was found. It hadn't occurred when they needed to speak to the dementors in recent times to coordinate the patrols, but the potential of it happening would remain in the memories of those who had witnessed it. There had been a few more who had accompanied the Dark Emperor down into the depths that had never returned again, but only the master and those that lived below knew what happened to those people.

Voldemort turned to make sure Lucius had taken the prisoner while he dealt with the warden, then began to head further down.

"My potential heir has been raised in secret down here for over half a decade," he informed them once they hit the fifth level where there was nothing but storage so that nobody could overhear besides the nameless prisoner who wouldn't last the day. "After the first year, he hasn't had human companionship at all except for my yearly visits. I am early this year because written missives have started up again requesting items for the boy."

"I didn't realize dementors could write, my Lord," Lucius replied back while pulling the prisoner that was having problems with a quick pace along.

"Don't be an idiot, Lucius," Voldemort snapped, looking back to give his follower a disdainful sneer. "They aren't intelligent enough for that. It means that someone has managed to sneak down there, or that the boy is learning on his own somehow. I aim to find out which one it is, and if the boy won't speak, then I will have the dementors do so. If they aren't needed, then this prisoner will be a gift to them."

Lucius had to jerk the prisoner forward again when he began to struggle, then released him to cast a stupify followed by a mobilicorpus when he grew fed up enough with the weak man trying to escape. He moved quickly to catch up with the Dark Lord who had not slowed down for the scuffle, and cursed inwardly to himself that he did not have his cane on him since he was not expecting to go somewhere cold that would make his leg start to act up again.

"Sorry, my Lord, I have the prisoner under control now," he said while trying to control his growing limp. "Do you know who could be down there?"

"Possibly a guard who has turned traitor or feels like a boy shouldn't be alone. He had been seen last year in the sixth level by several people, though they mistook him as Death. No further words, Lucius," was the response as they got to the stairs for the sixth level. "Few know of this secret, and I do not wish to chance anyone else learning of it."

The rest of the journey was made in silence except for Lucius' panicked breathing when they travelled through the corridors on the seventh level. Even Voldemort still struggled with how unwelcoming it was for the living, still expecting something to come out of one of the many dark side corridors that no amount of light would penetrate. The sight of the iron doors filled him with relief that he did not show outwardly, and he gestured for Lucius to grab the ring with the hidden spikes that would draw blood to open.

Lucius managed to contain the unexpected pain to a small gasp, and was surprised at how easily the heavy door swung open. He bowed as he allowed Voldemort to enter first, and when he straightened to get his first look inside, he flinched at the furniture made of human bones and the rug of what he suspected was human scalps before entering after with the prisoner floating behind him.

All kinds of dark objects lined the shelves on the walls that had not been touched for centuries if Lucius were to judge by the amount of dust coated on them, but they were beautiful even under all of that. Taking in the odd room with the blue flames made him almost miss the small boy in black robes meant for a wraith that walked into the room through a hall he hadn't noticed at first. He realized a moment later that he hadn't noticed the hall because the shelves were set up to appear like there was no break there - an optical illusion - then stumbled back a couple steps when a Grim appeared behind the boy with its hackles raised.

He thought he was doing well to not let out a startled scream when a dementor swooped in through the open door to hover menacingly on the ceiling. He limited it to a startled squeak instead.

"Call your protectors off, boy," Voldemort spat out. "And tell me how the letters are getting above."

When the child moved to grab the Grim around his silver chain, it drew Lucius's eyes to him again. The boy had long black hair that he suspected had never been cut, but someone had been brushing it since it lay untangled and tied with a ratty ribbon he suspected to have come from a dementor's robe. Pale skin that matched or was even lighter than the Dark Lord's skin showed he had most likely never seen the sun, but it was the slitted eyes that had him believing that the child could belong to his master. They were pitch black but for the green slits, and the boy's blank expression was almost statuesque in how expressionless it was.

"Siri learn," was the short and unexpected response.

Both adults stared at the boy, Lucius surprised that the boy sounded like a boy, and Voldemort expecting further elaboration. When all he did was stare back, Voldemort asked "Who and where is Siri?"

The boy pulled on the Grim's chain, and the beast in turn whined and tried to back away. "No! Bad! Siri now!" the child demanded, turning to grip the death omen's fur with both hands to prevent him from escaping while leaving back to the adults.

The Grim whined some more and its grey eyes started to take on the look of a cornered beast when the Dark Lord let out a loud sigh of irritation.

"Do you mean to tell me your pet is teaching you?" he demanded.

Both boy and beast turned to face them again, the latter with a growl for which the boy absently smacked him over the head for. "Yes," he answered after a moment. "Paddy bad. Dun wanna Siri."

"Where did you get it?"

The boy frowned in confusion at the question, but the expression cleared quickly when Them silently clarified it to him. "Up."

"Luciusss… You have a son about the same age," Voldemort hissed, growing annoyed at the confusing answers. "You talk to it - him."

Lucius bowed and took a step forward so he could crouch down to eye level with the child. "What is your name?" he asked.

"He doesn't have one," the Dark Lord said at the same time that the boy said "Harry." Lucius looked between the two wondering which one he was to go by.

"Harry, for now then," Voldemort gritted out, wanting to get this over with.

"Harry, can Siri talk?" he asked.

"Yes."

Lucius looked at the Grim with narrowed eyes and realized it was following their conversation. "And he understands us?" The creature's eyes widened, then looked away.

"Yes."

"And he can write?"

"Yes, an' read. Siri learn me."

"Is Shiri human?"

"No, he Paddy."

Lucius froze at the creak he heard, and glanced back to see his Lord getting comfortable in a chair he had silently conjured. A pale wand gestured for him to continue, so he turned back to Harry.

"What is a Paddy, Harry?" he asked.

"Paddy!" the boy replied while giving the Grim's silver chain a hard pull and him a patented 'Are you an idiot?' look. Something his own son, Draco, would never give him, though he'd seen the boy give it to their house elf, Dobby, on numerous occasions when it would do something that merited punishment.

Lucius took a deep breath to keep his patience, since his experience with boys meant that he knew they would get very stubborn and refuse to answer questions if he got angry. "So Paddy is a dog?"

"Yes."

"And Siri is what?"

"Hooman."

The dog groaned and flopped onto the floor, nearly dragging Harry down with him until he released the grip on the chain to stare at his pet in confusion. Voldemort leapt to his feet and a blue light made Lucius fall back as it narrowly missed him to hit the dog.

The blonde Death Eater watched with fascination when the spell forced the dog into human form. It normally required two wizards to cast, but that the Dark Lord was able to perform it on his own showed how powerful he was.

"Sirius Black?!" he gasped out in shock as he stared at the man laying on the floor only a foot away, and received a groan in reply.

"Siri," the boy confirmed with a huff.

What happened next was so quick that had Lucius blinked, he would have missed it. The Dark Lord had pointed the wand at Sirius and cast the killing curse, but the boy had screamed and threw himself on top of the prone man forcing Voldemort to redirect the spell at the wall to narrowly miss them both.

"What is the meaning of thisss?" Voldemort shouted, stalking forward and made to kick the boy off, but stopped himself at the last moment when he recalled he couldn't touch him.

"Mine! My Paddy!" Harry shouted, defending his dog-turned-human.

Sirius was also trying to pry the boy off him. "Harry! Get off me, it's better if I die than you!" he also argued over the boys angry cries.

Lucius scooted back to watch the unfolding drama, not even realizing that his mouth was hanging open.

"Get off the mutt!" Voldemort demanded, reaching down to try to grab the boy's robes only to find his hand passing through them and leaving a chilly tingle on his fingers. Though it was different from the burning heat of touching the boy, he jerked his hand back just in case.

"Harry, it's okay, my time was limited," Sirius said with a weak smile.

"No, MY PADDY!"

"Lucius, get the brat off so I can kill Black! He was supposed to be dead!"

Lucius snapped his mouth shut and scrambled to his feel to try to help Sirius pull the boy off, but recoiled back in horror when the boy's robes grew golden eyes that pop open all over it to give him a malignant glare that silently promised retribution.

"My Lord, look!" he gasped, then shouted in pain when icy talons tore through his robes to leave gouges on his back.

"Stop! STOP!" Voldemort commanded, causing Lucius, Sirius, and the dementor to pause, though Harry was so upset that he took the opportunity to burrow against Sirius firmly.

"Mine!" he defiantly declared into the sudden silence.

"You have a pet bunny," the Dark Lord tried.

"Bunny dead, Bunnyman."

Sirius couldn't help the bark of laughter, but he quickly masked it as a cough.

Lucius stared in horror. Surely the boy couldn't mean…

"Bunnyman?" Voldemort asked in an ominous voice that made the boy look up, though not in fear. He was smiling, and Lucius expected the young boy's life to end in the next few seconds.

"Yes. Bunny white and red eyes," Harry replied with smile still in place while comparing the Dark Lord to a white rabbit.

Lucius figured that the only reason that the Dark Lord was holding back at this point was because it was a smile of naive happiness, not one that mocked the angry Dark Lord. He doubted that even a potential heir would otherwise survive.

"I am Lord Voldemort, Dark Emperor of three countries," he snarled. "You will address me as 'The Dark Lord,' 'My Lord,' or 'Dark Emperor! Not _Bunnyman_!"

Harry's smile died to leave the blank expression once again, and both Sirius and Lucius nearly flinched when it felt like something was lost in that moment. "Okay," he agreed, then took a moment to consider which was easiest. "My Lor'."

The golden eyes on the robes glared up balefully at the Dark Lord while the dementor let out a rattling breath of agitation as it glided closer to the child. Both had felt the warmth leaving the child, and it made them feel cold once again.

"He's only a child," Sirius began, only to stop when the boy smacked him on the top of the head like he was a dog. "Hey!"

"I don't care, he isss mine," Voldemort angrily hissed, silencing the room once again so he could pace and think.

The presence of Sirius was a complication, one that shouldn't have happened, but one he could take advantage of. When he realized that, he was able to wrestle his temper back under control. Though the protection on the boy caused him no end of trouble, being a horcrux did keep his anger in check enough to avert the killing curse. There was no telling what would have happened had he hit the child with it; it definitely would have gotten rid of the Horcrux, which was bad enough, but it could have also disintegrated his own body from the backlash of the protection.

"You can keep your dog," he finally said. "But only with conditions."

Harry tilted his head slightly as both They and Them silently explained that there would have to be a deal to keep Paddy. When green slits met red eyes and showed understanding, Voldemort nodded and continued.

"First, your education is provided by me. That means no more learning from Sirius. Second, you'll be moving out of here and up to the empty first floor so that it's easier for me to visit," he said, then looked over to the dementor to see if it would agree, but it was facing the boy only so he met green eyes again assuming that the dementors were leaving the decision to the boy.

Harry considered the options. The first one was fine with him, as long as he learned to read the books. My Lord also didn't tell him he couldn't learn from his home, Them, or They, so he could get around it as They pointed out to him. He hadn't been Up that high though, and he wasn't done exploring here, and guards could limit how much he moved according to They's information. Them were giving off feelings of wariness, but remained silent and refused to say why.

"Can I come back?" he asked with a gesture to his surroundings once he got the proper words from Them.

"Only on days with no lessons and when I'm not here to visit," Voldemort said after a moment of consideration, figuring that the boy wouldn't want to make a long journey to come to these rooms that often anyway. "I will be sending two tutors here. They are not to be harmed in any way."

After a moment's pause to get that translated by They, he replied. "Okay."

"Further, I will be sending children here since you appear to need company," he said. "You need to learn how to interact with other people properly. I don't want you to rely only on Sirius as a companion. They are not to be harmed, either. Nor are my guards to be hurt any longer."

"Okay."

Voldemort frowned at the short replies he was getting. "Do you understand what I am saying so far?"

"Learn by tu-ors you send, no from Siri. Move to Up. No hurt chi'ren or guards," Harry promptly said. "Come home when no lesson an' My Lor' no visit."

Voldemort sneered at the simplicity of what was quoted back, but he couldn't find a fault with it. "And if you break any rules, Sirius gets punished."

"He's just a kid!" Sirius broke in, then screamed when he was hit with a cruciatus curse. It lasted only a few seconds, but it shocked Harry to see his human-dog shaking while holding him tightly.

"Like that, only worse. And if you break them bad enough, then Sirius is dead."

Harry glared up at the Dark Lord. "I say I deal, I no break!" he huffed, insulted by the insinuation of him going against a deal and seeing Sirius in pain. He knew deals! They taught him deals should be kept as long as the other had something he wanted, and he wanted his Paddy! Humans broke deals They also warned him. "Not hooman - hooman break!"

Voldemort smirked down at the the boy, then turned on his heel. "What are you then, boy? You'll be taking on a different name too, Harry is far too common and non-magical," he stated as he started for the door. "Come along, Lucius, we're leaving. I want the first floor to be fully furnished in the next few days for him to move up by the end of the week."

Lucius began to follow after, but stopped. "My Lord, what of the prisoner?" he asked.

"Leave him here, I'm sure the dementors would like a treat before they have to do the hard work of relocating the child."

Lucius glanced back at the boy that continued to glare at the Dark Lord's back, then let the body fall though he didn't cancel the stupify. In a moment of compassion, he hoped it would last long enough for the nameless sod to not have to endure the Kiss itself, then hurried to join his master before he lost him in the dark halls outside.

* * *

When the sounds of footsteps were long gone, Sirius finally breathed a sigh of relief, unable to believe that he still lived, then remembered why.

"Harry! Don't ever, ever, ever try to take a killing curse for me again!" he shouted, the fear for his godson's life coming to the fore again. He hugged the boy to himself tightly, ignoring the cold chill of the horrible shadow creatures. "I couldn't bear to lose you too, Harry."

"No call me Harry," the boy replied, trying to squirm out of the uncomfortably hold. "Paddy! Paddy now!"

"But that's your name! It's what Lily and James - your parents - were going to call you!" he explained gently, something inside deflating over having to explain it again after getting the boy to finally accept not too long ago. He estimated it was a couple months ago when Harry started responding to his name, but time moved oddly when he had no means to judge it by.

"Dunno Lily an James," the boy stubbornly replied like he initially had at the beginning, then bit down on Sirius's hand to finally get himself released. "No name, made deal!"

"But pup," Sirius whined.

"No, Siri! Lily here," he said, putting his hand over his tummy. "My Lor' here!" he added, moving his hand slightly lower where the black mark resided. "No James! My Lor' gimme name, Lily no tell They!"

He was tired of going over the name thing that Shiri was so stubborn about. They and Them didn't have names, only The First because it was the first and the oldest They here that the rest had came from, but he hadn't found The First yet either. It was still one of the lessons he had yet to learn, and They and Them wouldn't help him because it was part of the learning.

My Lord seemed to have several names though.

"That's because they died!" Sirius sighed out sadly while checking the teeth marks on his had to see if the skin was broken. "I told you that, pup!"

"Deal is deal, no break. Shiri want pun… punsh… hurt again? No break deal, no name me Harry!"

"It's not like he can hear us anymore!" Sirius tried to cajole with a roll of his eyes. "How about when it's just us two? Like a secret name? Your dad had a secret name too, remember Prongs?"

He got a frown in response. "No. No name. Made deal," the boy replied, then moved over to the They that was still hovering in agitation to show that he was okay. He sighed as he was picked up to get checked over, but knew that They were all upset at the green light and wanted to reassure themselves.

"What is it - they - doing?" Sirius asked as he watched Harry hang limply in the dementor's arm while its other hand blindly patted the boy.

"Seeing me," he grumbled in reply. "They angry until They know am okay."

"And… if one knows, they all know, right?" he asked, letting the name thing drop for now since Harry was being stubborn about it. "How does that work?"

"Like that," the boy replied, then got set back down a moment later. "One know, all know. All is one."

"And they all think?" he asked. This was where it started getting tricky for him to understand.

"No, Siri. Them Think Talk. They unnerstan'."

And he was lost again. How did something not think but understand? He got the hive mind part, but…. "Is there a Queen Dementor?" he asked.

"What is Keen?"

"Like a ruler. A leader. A master. That kind of thing."

The boy perked up at the question. "I am Master. They and Them call me that! But need to learn," he answered with a smile.

It was a smile that made Sirius feel like he was defeated, though. Where once he saw the light of happiness in the odd eyes that he had gotten used to, now there was something cold in the glimmer that reflected back. It was a return of how it originally was when he first met the child, only before the cold glimmer was from not knowing warmth. This time, it showed he embraced it.

He still held on to hope, though. Harry did choose him after all. It just meant he had to use the Slytherin cunning he had spent years getting rid of to try to teach the boy without him knowing he was learning, so when he heard the demand of "Paddy!" again, he transformed into a dog again to stay by Harry's side.

* * *

When Voldemort reached the top floor again, Barty was waiting on his knees to see what his fate was. He was commanded to furnish the first floor with things that would be fitting for an emperor, including a bedroom and anything else a person might need, and told to expect 'Death's avatar' to move in at the end of the week. He was then going to be the boy's personal assistant, and then was told about his additional failure with Sirius Black and that he was to ensure that the animagus would not have any further influence on the child beyond that of a pet dog.

"He may be my heir, Barty, and you are to follow his orders as long as they don't countermand mine," he explained. "And if there is anything unusual to the orders, you are to ask me about them first before following them this time. Do not try to cover up for him hurting any of the guards, children, or tutors I will be sending. You may send me a list of recommendations on who is to be the next warden since you will devote the next half dozen years at least to the boy so that he might be able to go to Hogwarts without mutilating the other children like he did your guards."

Satisfied that his preparations and orders would leave no room for problems in the future, he returned shortly afterwards to his headquarters with Lucius limping after him. One he got there, he was joined by Abraxus so dismissed the younger Malfoy to attend to his normal duties so he could focus on what the older had to report as they took the lift to his office.

"There were several candidates to your specifications, but Severus Snape appears to be the most promising," Abraxus began while shuffling the papers in his arms to bring the name mentioned to the top. "He graduated top of the Slytherin class for his year, and is a potion genius. Though he participated only in the last couple of years of the war effort, his duelling skills was top notch, and he could have easily found a place in the inner circle. Further, he knows ligilimency and occlumency, the latter he's a master of, and so can withstand the worst effects of dementors for a period of time."

"And his loyalty?" Voldemort asked.

"He has a clean slate. Once the war ended, he devoted himself to the Department of Mysteries and has made his own discoveries with potion ingredient and their theories," he said. "He has no criminal background, no family connections, no children of his own, nor any relationships. The closest that I have uncovered is that he was once friends with a muggleborn in school, but that friendship did not last beyond the fifth year. He is also the godfather of Lucius' only son, so he is ties are with us, my Lord."

"Ah yes, he was once working towards my inner circle, but dropped out some years ago. So that's where he wandered off to," he mused out loud as he recalled why the name sounded so familiar. "Where is Bellatrix?"

"My Lord!" the mentioned woman exclaimed, falling to her knees to grovel from where she had been waiting by the lift doors for his return. Voldemort allowed himself to glare at the back of her head for a second before he smoothed his expression into a neutral one.

"Bella," he familiarly greeted her in a silky tone, then walked past her to head towards one of the couches in the entry room of his office floor. "Don't kneel all day, come along."

"Yes, my Lord!" she replied, quickly getting up to follow Abraxus' lead since it had been so long since she had visited his personal floor. She knew her devotion and skills would get her acknowledged, and one day she would surpass the Malfoys in favoritism. Especially since had had chosen her to bear his child if what Abraxus hinted at was true! "I'm ready to start whenever you are, my Lord!"

Both men paused at the declaration, and Voldemort looked at Abraxus. "What did you tell her?" he asked.

"That you want me as a mother!" the eager lady exclaimed.

"No, that you were looking for a mother figure," the older man corrected.

"Ah, I see," Voldemort said, then took a seat. "I believe you might have misunderstood, dear Bellatrix." He smirked inwardly at the downcast expression, though outwardly, he gave her a sympathetic smile. "Though your form is a delight to my eyes, I need someone trustworthy to raise my heir."

Abraxus turned to prepare the Dark Lord a drink while also keeping an eye on the proceeding. Watching his master twist people to do what he wanted was always amusing - when it wasn't his or his family's strings being pulled. He appeared to be in an especially spiteful mood, so whatever had happened in Azkaban was not good.

"Your h-heir, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked in a quivering voice. "You had a child recently?"

"Oh no, not at all," he replied, pausing a moment to watch her sag in relief before resuming so he could crush her heart some more. "The child is over five years old, it wasn't recent. I've kept him hidden for years to keep him safe, but now he needs contact to learn how to be around people."

"If you wanted a baby, I would have been willing!" she couldn't help but say as she fell to her knees, clasping a hand to her chest. "I've been waiting for years!"

Voldemort accepted the drink that Abraxus quietly served him and tsked at Bellatrix's display. "And what have you done recently to prove your worth, Bella?" he asked, his tone coming across as gentle though the words were getting cruel . "You were a loyal soldier towards the end of the war, but nothing more than that. I had other followers who did that and more in the intervening years."

"I can do more! I will do more! I would do anything for you, my Lord!" she declared while fighting tears. "Just give me a task, and I'll do anything to prove myself worthy of bearing you a child!"

"And be disloyal to your own husband?" Voldemort asked, deliberately lacing his voice with contempt.

"Rudolphus and Rabastan both support my decision," she insisted. "They have worked hard to become department heads! We are loyal only to you!"

"Ah, _they_ have worked hard," he pointed out, then took a sip of his drink, nodding at Abraxus in approval for the choice in firewhiskey to warm him up and relax him."What have you done since the war ended?"

She kept silent and bowed her head while she tried to think of something, but Voldemort knew her record. She had flit in and out of several departments, too unstable to stick with any kind of desk job for too long, then tried her hand at being a hit wizard. After throwing a curse at a half blood child, however, she was fired, and had since then accompanied her husband and her brother-in-law who, if rumors were to be believed, was all but her second husband as well.

"Exactly," he stated to her silence, and watched her deflate after shredding her confidence like that. "However, you have a chance to prove yourself."

She looked up, and he bit off the sneer that wanted to make itself known for the running mascara on her face created by the tears she had been hiding when she had lowered her head. Abraxus made his own sneer known, but she was so focused on the Dark Lord that she didn't notice it.

"What can I do?"she quickly asked, begging for a chance to prove herself. "I will do anything to make you happy, my Lord!"

"Take care of my child, and I may give you one of your own," he replied. "Research names for me first, I haven't even named him yet since I didn't know if I wanted to keep him. I don't even know if I need an heir, since everyone knows that I delved deeply into the magical arts to achieve immortality. Still… there are many countries and continents, Bella, and I may need several children loyal to me to help rule when they are older."

She nodded and used her sleeves to wipe at her face, although it just smeared her makeup worse. She was still beautiful despite it, but it was a disgrace in pureblood society to show emotions to that extent and she was suddenly self conscious about that. "I'm s-sorry, my Lord," she stuttered. "I will do better, and I'll raise the boy like he's my own. I was the oldest and helped raise my younger sisters, so I know how to take care of a child. I'll make sure he wants for nothing!" she swore.

"That is good, but be sure not to spoil him, either," Voldemort warned. "I don't need a weak child. You will teach him about etiquette and socializing, and he will have another teacher to tell him about magic. He has a dog… your cousin, Sirius, actually. Make sure that the man stays a dog and can't contaminate him with Dumbledore's teachings. You can get more details from Barty who will be acting as a personal assistant to the boy."

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, then stood and bowed herself out after the silent dismissal.

"You went easy on her, my Lord," Abraxus said once the lift doors closed.

"I wasn't aiming to break her beyond use, Abraxus," he replied after draining his glass. "Just enough to give her hope that she could redeem herself and be honored."

"Then you plan to let her have your child?"

"Now?" he asked with a sneer. "Hardly. She still acts like a schoolgirl with a crush that she believes is love. I'd have to kill her to get her to stop clinging if I allowed her in my bed at this time. If she ever grows up without losing her devotion it will become a possibility. With both Rodolphus and Rabastan, however, I can't help but wonder if she is barren."

"Actually, I believe they don't want children and have been using methods to prevent pregnancy," Abraxus replied, moving back to the bar to refill the glass. "Other rumors also say that she actually hasn't allowed her husband to touch her beyond her marital night because she's devoted to you."

"And then there are those where she has been shared between the two brothers," Voldemort finished. People were all too willing to share rumors with him in hopes that they would find favor. "Not that I care much. As she is now, I wouldn't have her though I didn't lie about finding her body pleasing to look at."

However, the rumor about her not allowing herself to be touched would explain the anger in her husband's eyes that day that he had stripped Lady Goyle from her position. The Lestrange brothers had managed to settle into the new government after the war, but Bellatrix had remained too restless to do so. When she could not adjust to normal jobs because of her erratic mood swings, Voldemort began seeing less of her. Now he only kept those who were useful in the government but still had the skills to fight close to him such as the Malfoys. She would no doubt feel honored to be given this opportunity since she had little skills in anything else besides killing.

* * *

A/N

Bella hasn't connected the dots on her initial visit to Azkaban with Goyle to the Heir, and Harry lost his name. So soon, too! He hadn't gotten attached to it, and he doesn't understand the concept of parents, but he does like his puppy. Dementors are almost like mercenaries according to canon - they will keep a contract until a higher bidder comes along and they've taught that concept to Harry.

I can't see anyone else getting away with calling Voldy Bunnyman without dying, though. Potter luck at work.

Frequently asked questions:

Voldemort looks like his snake face - it's a result of having so many horcruxes.

I would like to clarify there is no shipping in this fic - sex and relationships are just a tool Voldemort wields as a weapon and a reward.

Yes, I love all reviews, even those asking for only updates. I would much appreciate if the latter would add what they like or dislike about the fic though besides my slow updates! Between severe medical conditions, memory problems, and the anxiety and panic attacks I go through over even thinking about hitting that submit a chapter button, it takes a while for me to get the courage and time to post a new chapter. I do have a couple more saved back that I'll try to post soon since I do continue to write for this!


	13. Above

Disclaimer: Still don't own the rights. I do own the Unofficial Harry Potter cookbook with over 150 recipes, but I didn't write that, either. The English Roast and the Meat pies were delicious, and so was the Victorian Sandwich Sponge Cake!

The boy's eyes popped open when he woke up the morning he was supposed to be going Up with a brilliant idea, but he stayed in bed to ponder it. Paddy's back was pressed against his, the furry warmth making him relaxed and comfortable, and he figured he had enough time since even Them were off somewhere. Probably poking at the prisoner's brains while waiting for the day to begin.

He really didn't want to leave his rooms, so he had spent the days thinking of how to take the comfort and atmosphere with him. He could take the items and furniture, and They had that planned, but he would only be able to visit the ever-changing corridors once in a while from here on because of the deal. The journey to come down would be a long trek according to They, but They also reassured him that when he grew up more, it wouldn't be as taxing like the time he had gone above and got his Paddy even if the distance was much further. But still, the thought of leaving made him feel like it would cause a separation between him and They as My Lord tried to bring him closer to humans.

He mentally poked his connection with They and felt acknowledgement to communicate. With that, he mentally shoved the concept he had come up with at them, and was smug about the surprise and shock he felt vibrating back. When they suddenly dumped him out of the hive mind though, he pouted because he had wanted to listen to them discuss his idea with each other, but he did suppose it was a huge idea, and they might have to think it over.

What he wanted was to have his soul sucked out, then have it fed back to him. It would give him a bigger connection to They than he had with My Lord, a connection he could feel on occasion with the latter, especially when he was angry or happy. He wasn't too fond of that connection since it made his head hurt on occasion, and My Lord never used it to talk. He also didn't really like My Lord much at all. Before he had threatened his puppy, he didn't like or dislike My Lord, but he forced him to deal, so he leaned more towards the dislike even if he still wasn't sure if My Lord was human or not.

With They, he had a stronger connection through the soul they shared that belonged to his first mother. They also taught him how to think/talk, and it was something only he shared with They. Not even their first master called Ekrizdis could do it, so it made him very special, and it was something They often liked to remind him of.

Them were loyal to him, but there was no connection like he shared with They. He could speak with them, but it wasn't the same way since they used word-thoughts instead of idea-thoughts, and he found that too simple and boring, kind of like human talk even if he didn't have to know the words to speak it. He could bring up images in his head for them to see instead, but they sometimes got that wrong. Them were a bit stupid, but useful to help him understand what the human talk meant in combination with They.

He sighed at how long it was taking They to go over his idea and rolled over to poke Paddy. His puppy let out a loud snore as he jerked awake, then he got up and shook himself before wagging his tail and sniffling about his face. The boy shoved the big head away and sat up himself. "Bath," he announced out loud, and grabbed the puppy's chain as he slid off the bed to lead him through the dark bedroom and lab room.

When they entered the area with the large tub, he used the glowing runes to get the tub to start filling and wondered if there was something like this in the Up. They had told him that the rooms above was going to lack in some things, but it would have other new things. Remembering the changes of today shifted his mood downward again.

"Siri," he demanded, wanting someone to talk to about it since They were still being silent.

"What's up, pup?" Sirius asked once he shifted, stretching out his human limbs with some loud pops to familiarize himself with it.

"Is Up bad?" the boy asked as he slipped into the water.

"Not at all," Sirius enthused, trying to bring Harry out of the pensive mood as he sat on the floor in the dark, his only source of light the green glow of Harry's slitted eyes. "There's sunlight, fresh air, the sound of the waves, and the sky! It will be great, pup, no more dark and gloomy places where anything could jump out at you! Speaking of, can we have light in here, please?"

The boy sighed again. The explanation sounded horrible, and he didn't know what any of those things were. "Fire," he grumbled out, ordering the fireplace to burst into blue flames, then sulkily started scrubbing himself. "What is that?"

"What is what, pup?" Sirius asked, still in a happy tone that made the boy growl with annoyance.

"Wave? Sky? All in Up."

"Uh…." Sirius was caught off guard by the question. "How to explain? The sky is blue and beautiful. Sometimes clouds cover it, and there is rain, or at night there are stars, like little diamonds in the sky, and the moon is there instead of the sun. You have to see it to understand, pup."

"More here," he grumbled in reply, but then perked up when They finally connected again. They apparently had to have a counsel because it was an idea that never was. There was more to it, but he couldn't know since he hadn't learned yet.

"Yeah, but nothing is ever different down here!" Sirius explained, not noticing he had lost his audience. "Up there, there's always new things, even if it's only the weather changing! And it won't be so silent, too. The silence is maddening at times. At least I'll be able to hear the waves and the guards moving around and stuff up there!"

They thought it might be dangerous. He could have only 15 years - that was how long it took to them to digest a soul after consuming it, but They weren't sure if he digested it or not like they did, and it might not fit right so he could end up a husk. They would also have to keep a small portion, so it would only last that long even if it did work.

He frowned at the new information. Was there anything else he could put the portion of soul into to keep them connected?

They didn't know, he had to Learn more about the first master, the experiments, and the history.

He slapped the water, then realized that Sirius had fallen silent and was watching him.

"Where did you go off to, pup?" Sirius asked when he saw he had Harry's attention again. Harry might not want to be called that name, but he could still think it!

"Was talking," he replied, frowning. "Have to learn."

"Well, that's why we're moving above!"

"Yeah," he agreed unenthusiastically. It all came down to that, didn't it.

"Aw, cheer up, pup. It won't be so bad. I'll even teach you a game you can play in the tub so that it's not so boring!" Sirius said, stripping off his prisoner uniform to join his godson. "We need bubbles, first. Turn on the water again while I get the soap!"

* * *

Going Up was a long climb. After the first set of stairs, he and his entourage were joined by two guards carrying torches, and the light had hurt so he had to switch to his other eyes. He couldn't see as well through them - only as far as the light reflected - so when he began to stumble after another two set of stairs because the light was still making his head hurt along with his rarely used vision, They picked him up and carried him. He really hated the other set of eyes that didn't let him see the glowing lines on the wall or what was in the dark shadows.

' _That's how humans see,'_ Them informed him, breaking their own silent and sulky atmosphere. None of them were happy about going Up except Paddy, who had been running back and forth with a wagging tail. They were indifferent about going Up for themselves, but unhappy with having to share him with humans. ' _Your vision is blurry again though, Beloved. You will want to inform your new teachers if it continues. It was fixed before, when you were younger, so they should be able to do it again.'_

Could the day get worse, he wondered as he buried his face in the ragged robes of the They that carried him. It smelled like his rooms below - dusty and old with a bit of mildew, and he felt comforted by that and the cold chill they exuded. They weren't even halfway up and he was surrounded by the stench of humans, the annoying wails they made, and the stupid light that wasn't letting him see properly.

The guard were silent, too, though he kept feeling the horrified but curious feelings they gave off as they snuck looks at him. Stupid humans, it's not like it was the first time! He was Up once before and met them!

' _You were a secret, Beloved. We didn't want to share you with the world. They are curious! And soon, they will be in awe since you are Master here.'_

Well, it was still stupid. He didn't want to be watched by humans while he was feeling so bad. And he was going to hurt Paddy if he didn't stop acting so happy!

' _We're almost there, Beloved. Then you can relax. They made your rooms like the old ones, only with new things that should be more comfortable! It took days to make sure that everyone would be happy with the new stuff you have, and the humans promised you would like the toys.'_

He gripped They's robe tightly in his hands with a soft growl and demanded everyone shut up in his head. He didn't want to be cheered up, he was not happy about the new stuff and wanted to remain that way.

By the time they got to the ground floor, he was in as sour of a mood as a six year old could be, his 'robes' were swirling in agitation, and his escort had increased by half a dozen more dementors whose sudden presence had made the guards jumpy and too uncomfortable to keep staring at the mysterious child. The torches lining the walls as they had gone farther up had also changed from a normal fire to blue flames when the group had gone by which had unnerved them further, so the guards departed as soon as the boy was carried into his new bedroom.

He was silently held for several minutes before he finally signalled he was ready to be set down. There were windows in his room that was letting in the painful light, so he couldn't switch his eyes to see what was around came over to lick his face with a whine, and he slapped his head. "No."

Paddy whined again, a dark blob that he could see only if he squinted, and it flopped down onto the floor with a sulky groan. He could imagine the ear and tail droop that accompanied that, and it made his chest pang slightly since he caused it. "Can't see," he explained shortly, feeling the need to ease that pain, then sat down also to sulk in silence.

* * *

Bellatrix was eager to meet the heir! She had finally puzzled together that the odd rumors of the Dark Lord disappearing into Azkaban was true, and that he must have been visiting his son during that time. She suspected that Lady Goyle had been the boy's mother since she had also disappeared almost six years ago only for her body to resurface more than a year later. She remembered Lady Goyle had displeased him, so no doubt he had gotten rid of his child's mother as soon as his son didn't need her.

The only downside to the current boat ride was that she was sharing it with Severus Snape. She watched him with a grin since she knew it annoyed him, and he glowered back at her as they stared at each other. His silence was becoming rather boring though, so she thought to spice up the ride with some conversation.

"What do you think the boy will be like?" she asked, breaking the silence. "I think he will be wonderful! How can he not be, being the Dark Lord's son?"

She got a sneer in return. "I'm sure it brings you anguish to not have been the first to bear him a child," Severus returned, her devotion to the man he hated making him dislike her that much more. He felt a smug satisfaction when grin fell off her face, and he smirked at her expression in return.

"How dare you," she snarled. "I'll have you know, he's promised I'll be honored with his next child if I prove I can raise this one well! And I will, too! Better than you will!"

"You're delusional if you think so, Bellatrix," Snape all but purred to goad her further. "You think I haven't heard about you? You only got the Dark Lord's attention during the war because you're a mad and sadistic _bitch_. I also heard you had earned his disfavor because of the slavish devotion you kept showing rather than reforming yourself into an upstanding citizen."

Bellatrix felt her face pale as his words hit home, then she flushed with anger when his smirk widened into a cruel smile since her reaction was so obvious. She took a deep breath to wrestle her anger under control, then let it out with a huff.

"I'm a _Black_ ," she hissed. "As such, I grew up learning all of the proper pureblood etiquette which I will teach him. Not just that, but politics, too! You're a half blood that grew up in muggle slums, a Prince that was disowned and destitute. You can't teach him what I can."

Snape smoothed his expression to hide his own anger at the reminder of his abusive muggle father and a neglectful mother who had spiraled down into depression because of said muggle. "I have brains, unlike you, and that was why I was selected," he coldly told her. "I was able to reform and keep up with the times, and I don't need our Lord's favor to know my value."

"More like you failed, Snape," Bellatrix said, leaning forward to gloat at him. "I heard you couldn't restore his missing finger, and so fell from his favor and was shuffled away into the Department of Mysteries."

"Nobody could restore it," he said, smoothly dismissing that. "And I enjoy my work. Had I truly fallen, I would have been turned out. You, on the other hand, couldn't keep a single job, was dismissed and all but banned from his sight. He only remembered you when he needed a disposable female."

"Y-you… You-" Bellatrix bit her tongue and clenched her fists, standing up abruptly causing the small boat to rock. The movement made her lose her balance and sit down abruptly, but the loss of dignity was a small price to pay since it distracted her from cursing the man which would have made the Dark Lord angry before she even got on the island.

"How about I propose a truce, Bellatrix," Snape offered, already tired of the companion that he would be forced to be around for the next few years regularly. "You don't get in my way and I don't get in your way. We only speak to each other if we have to, and we speak as courteously as we can. It wouldn't do to set a bad example for the boy, after all." The boy he had every intention of killing now that he knew it was the Dark Lord's son. Vengeance for Lily. He might be able to pin it on the idiot sitting across from him as well.

Bellatrix eyed him for a minute for a trick, but his face gave nothing away. "Fine, but if you try to make me look bad in front of the boy or the Dark Lord, I will kill you," she finally agreed.

"I'm sure you don't need me to do that," he sniffed, then turned his attention towards the looming prison. It was another ten minutes of silence when they finally reached the docks.

It was a nice day, warm for January though the water was bitingly cold. Mist curled where the waves lapped at the black, salt encrusted rocks that lined the shore, and both drew their traveling cloaks tightly about their bodies to ward off the chill the prison naturally gave when the boat pulled up on the weather worn docks. Bellatrix was helped out first by a guard but Severus declined the helping hand to climb out on his own.

"So where is he?" Bellatrix eagerly asked the guard that escorted them to the large iron doors. "How old is he? Is he handsome? Is he strong?"

The guard looked at her askance. "He looks about five or six, but I didn't get a good look at him, Lady Lestrange. He kept himself curled up against a dementor the whole time, so none of us got a good look. He's in his rooms now, and the dementors wouldn't even let Barty in."

"Oh," she said, her momentary disappointment disgusting Snape who was just listening as he walked along with them inside of the prison. "Well, what color was his hair? What was he wearing?"

"Er….His hair was long and black, but his clothes… Well… We think it might be alive? It was _moving_."

"Oh come now," Severus snapped, annoyed now at the tone of fear the guard showed one measly brat. "That is obviously accidental magic, or some kind of magical robe the Dark Lord has the boy wear for protection."

"Of course, Mr. Snape," the guard quickly agreed, not wanting to argue with those higher on the chain than he was. "You'll have to see it yourself to believe it. This is the main hallway on the ground floor for these rooms, all side corridors will eventually lead to this one. The torches started burning blue though as soon as the child came up here, and you can touch them since they don't burn. We're not sure how that happened, but…"

The guard shrugged and continued, figuring incorrectly that they would know more about the boy's quirks than he did since they were sent by the Dark Lord. "The first side corridors will house your own rooms for the weekdays. Once the boy came up here, the effects of the dementors on this floor have weakened even though there are about a dozen that have been patrolling. The main doors along this corridor is to be for classes, and you may select the rooms you wish. One was even fitted for beginning potions for your specialty, Mr. Snape, and another into a small banquet room for you, Mrs. Lestrange."

"How long has he been here?" Bellatrix interrupted.

"Er… A few hours. He hasn't left his rooms at all, and his lunch has stayed outside of his door according to Barty. There's one dementor inside the rooms with him along with his pet Grim."

Bellatrix started laughing, and Snape raised an eyebrow to which she shook her head. "Oh, the Dark Lord didn't tell you about the _grim_?"

"It must have slipped his mind," he replied in a dry tone. "What about the grim?"

"We believe he has the powers of Death himself," the guard answered, then snapped his mouth closed when both Death Eaters sneered at him in disdain.

"Just a mutt actually," Bellatrix cackled out, not willing to share the truth with Snape. She'd let him find out on his own, since he thought himself so smart. "The Dark Lord said the boy could keep it if he behaves, but if it or the boy doesn't, then we can punish it to keep the boy in line."

"Er, so the other side passages are furnished," the guard explained, trying to get the tour going again so that he could leave. "They are guest rooms should there be any need for them. The Dark Lord mentioned something about future birthdays and having guests to the war- er - Barty, I believe, but I have no details at this time."

They stopped at a large archway that led to the prisoner's court. Severus and Bellatrix could see a vegetable garden that looked like it struggled to grow, but some prisoners were tending to anyway. "Now, the side passages do wrap around Azkaban, the building is shaped as a triangle, and a couple of the rooms that face the courtyard here is used by the guards as kitchens, a break room, a nursing station, and sign in station, but our barracks and main offices are in the higher floors - those that are habitable, anyway. There are some political prisoners above as well, but most criminals are housed in the lower levels. The farther down you go, the worse the crimes committed with leaders of the rebellion factions on the sixth level. There is a seventh level… But you never want to go down there. Only the Dark Lord, and now Lucius Malfoy, are the only ones known to have returned from there once past the solitary confinement."

The boy was from there, the guard silently added, but he didn't want to mention that to them. Nor did he want to share the time he was trapped there, though that memory was hazy. He had ended up with a concussion along with the bruises and his pants soiled, but Moody had had it worse. The healers couldn't fix the mangled face nor replace the missing eye, so he was allowed to retire once he was released from the hospital. From there, he had apparently left the country, and rumors said it was to join the aurors in the MACUSA.

"We came in from the Southern side, where your rooms and the classrooms are. The guest rooms are in the North East side," he said, pointing across the courtyard where there was another open archway, then pointed to the third one that had newly fitted doors on it with Barty Crouch sitting on a bench and a dementor hovering close by. "And the northwest corridors belong to the child."

"A whole wing for one kid?" Snape asked with disbelief.

"For one kid, a grim, and the dementors," the guard corrected. "They refused to allow him to share the southern corridors from what I heard. Barty knows more, he was there."

Barty stepped into the courtyard from the northwest doorway and saw them as the guard finished his explanation.

"Graves, thanks for bringing the tutors," Barty greeted the guard, looking relieved. "Severus, good to see you. Bellatrix, as beautiful as ever."

"I'll be going back to my station, sir - er, Mr. Crouch," Graves said, having to correct himself for the second time since Barty was no longer the warden. A new one was yet to be assigned though five days had passed, but he was hoping to be passed by for the promotion. They had been coming to unfortunate ends since the boy got here, and he wouldn't want to be the child's personal assistant, either. The kid gave him the creeps.

"Barty," Severus greeted with a nod as Graves slipped away.

"Did you have a promotion or a demotion?" Bellatrix tactlessly asked after she gave a grin in greeting.

"That's yet to be seen," Barty answered with a sigh. "Honestly, the guest rooms have to be finished since I worked on both of your rooms first and I have no idea what the classrooms need beyond desks, parchment, a chalkboard, and what little I know you two need. Now that you are both here, if you need more, just let me know and I'll order it. If I do well, it's a promotion since I'll be to the heir what the Malfoys are to our Lord, so I'm lucky to have the opportunity I suppose."

The dementor that guarded the northwest wing glided off to the side as they approached to enter, and Barty pushed it open. "Those things are bloody menaces though. They hover all around the kid, so you want to be careful not to make a sudden move that might be taken as aggression around him. You'd probably get your soul sucked out before anyone could stop them."

The other two paled and filed that away for the future. "Why are they so protective of him?" Severus asked.

"They see him as master of Azkaban or something, I think, and the Dark Lord acknowledged it," Barty explained as they walked through the new hallway. All of the doors that lined the area were tightly closed, and dementors flitted in and out of the side corridors to watch them carefully. "It happened years ago when he was still a suckling babe. I don't know what that means, but I do know Azkaban was created centuries ago by a dark wizard named Ekrizdis who had brought them in from unknown parts. Maybe they see him as his heir, too?"

"Ekrizdis?" Bellatrix asked. "What was his family name?"

"Nobody knows," Barty replied, his voice going quieter. "The old ministry never found out, and they only knew his name because of some papers found. The place was originally heavily warded on top of being unplottable, and they found the island only after he died and the wards faded away. The things they uncovered were so terrible that they didn't make records of it, and he had a passionate hatred of muggles. They think he came from another country, but even that is conjecture since no country would acknowledge he was theirs when he was found dead."

"Did they note how he died?" Severus asked, intrigued by the story. Binns had never covered Azkaban, and the only thing he had known about it was that it was a prison. He had never thought to look into its history and had figured that the ministry had made it.

"Nope, that was part of the terrible things," Barty said just as they came to a door with a food tray on the floor. "Looks like he still hasn't eaten… Hopefully he isn't in a bad mood and remembers me."

While the other two wondered at that remark, Barty raised one hand to knock on the door while pulling out a package of cauldron cakes from his robes with the other. A few seconds went by, then it was opened by another dementor.

"I have brought the young Lord his tutors," Barty said to it after going into a low bow. "May we enter?"

The dementor stood there for a moment as though indecisive, then it slid back and opened the door farther to allow entrance. Bellatrix was on her toes trying to get a first glimpse, but at the invitation, she pushed past the other men and rushed inside.

"Young Lord!" she excitedly greeting, dropping to the floor in front of the boy. At the same time, a large black dog leapt to his feet and began to snarl and snap, though he hadn't lunged forward to bite. "Shut up, mutt!"

Severus and Barty stepped in to see Bellatrix sneering at the dog while the child ignored them both to stare moodily at the floor. His body posture said that he was annoyed with the woman being close by the way he leaned away from her, and his clenched fists told Severus that he was holding his anger in.

"Bellatrix, what a wonderful first impression you are making upon our ward," Severus drawled to stop the tension before it got worse, but the dog's head snapped up at his voice. His only warning was an angry snarl before the dog was on him, and it was so sudden that he didn't get a chance to pull out his wand before he was knocked to the ground by the huge beast and forced to protect his head with his arms. "Get the rabid creature off me!" he screamed.

" _Crucio!"_ Bellatrix shouted in a mix of glee and anger. The dog's howls of pain followed that until Bellatrix's spell was cut off by a yelp of pain from her.

The boy had sunk his teeth into her thigh and refused to let go while his hands clawed at whatever he could grab. Her robes were protecting her from the worst of the bite, but Barty winced when Bellatrix jerked herself out of it.

"I brought you cauldron cake, young Lord," Barty said, stepping forward to give his offering. "It tastes much better than the yucky woman, right?"

Green eyes snapped up to meet his, and he went still while holding out his hand with the cake. The boy stared hard at the blonde blur, then at the closer cake, and finally he recalled seeing him when he got his puppy and with the meals that had followed. The cake reminded him of the blonde man, but the human wasn't memorable otherwise, so he took the cake and walked past him to check on Padfoot.

"Bad Paddy!" he scolded the dog after making sure there was no blood or wounds. "I learn, was a deal! No hurt!"

He sat down by the shaky dog and opened his cake, offering a portion to the dog first. As he nibbled on his half, he looked around to take stock of the noisy and annoying people. The closer dark haired one that Padfoot had attacked was sitting up and using a stick so that all the blood and wounds in his skin was disappearing, and the noisy one that had come in first was blurry and he couldn't see what she was doing besides standing farther in his room. He didn't even notice the awkward silence that the other three was acutely feeling, he was enjoying his first cake in days instead.

"Why didn't you eat your lunch?" Barty finally asked to break the silence. Bellatrix was feeling mortified, since as far as introductions went, it couldn't get much worse. Severus was angry about being attacked and didn't feel like he should speak just yet, or it would show.

"No want," was his short response after a momentary pause to understand the question. "Not happy Up."

Bellatrix was surprised by the answer, since he didn't look mad to her. Severus wasn't too surprised since he did note the clenched fists earlier, but that was more in response to the growling and Bella's annoying voice he originally thought. The boy's response hinted at other reasons he didn't understand, though.

Sirius shakily got onto all fours and glared at Snape. He couldn't believe Snivellus was here! Stupid Death Eater git. Not just Snivellus, but his insane cousin as well.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the glare, then ignored the dog to study the boy again though he kept his wand in hand just in case it decided to attack again. "What is your name then?" he asked, trying his own attempt at conversation.

"No name."

"I'm supposed to help you with your name!" Bellatrix exclaimed with a large smile that went unseen by the boy. She got an annoyed glance in her direction instead because her voice was making his head hurt more, and the room fell into an awkward silence once more.

"Well, you have a lot cut out for you, Bellatrix," Severus said after a bit of time of silence had gone by again. "Real conversation killer. I am Severus Snape, and I will teaching you the basics in everything."

"I am Bellatrix Lestrange, but you can call me Aunt Bella!" Bellatrix said after Severus's only reply was a crumpling of an empty cake wrapper.

"I'm Bartemius Crouch, but you can call me Barty," Barty added, then shrugged at the questioning looks directed his way. "I never got a chance to introduce myself."

A chuffing noise caught all their attention, and they saw the dog laughing at them. "Shut up, mutt, or should I introduce you?" Bellatrix asked, to which Sirius stopped laughing at. He had found the whole awkward introduction thing funny, especially since two of them were purebloods who had whole procedures for it. Seeing Snape eye him more speculatively, Sirius adopted the dog attitude once more by sniffing around on the floor to lick up crumbs. Bellatrix cackled.

"The dog?" Barty asked.

"Paddy," the boy offered. "Padfoo'"

Severus wondered what he had gotten himself into when Bellatrix began to cackle at his clueless expression.

A/N:

Harry hadn't used normal vision, so though it was healed, he isn't used to them. He won't need to undergo healing them again, and they will adjust. He's not used to so much normal light so it's giving him migraines.

Don't forget the blue fires don't give off normal heat, it takes away the chill from the dementor's aura instead. That is why Lady Goyle huddled by the fireplace, and it's something Azkaban does around the master of the castle. It takes most people a day of exposure to feel its anti-dementor effects, though some might be more sensitive to it and need less time. Harry has been around it all his life, but he's immune to the dementors anyway.

Read, review if you'd like, constructive criticism is appreciated but flames are not. Surprisingly, there has been little to none, so for that, thank you all and I love your support!


	14. Lessons

Disclaimer - Does anyone even read these things by this point?

Chapter 14 - Lessons

Sirius gave a mournful dog-sigh as Harry clung to his neck with his face buried in his fur, then leaned in closer to give his godson the only kind of support he could. It unnerved him a little that a child of not even six would soundlessly cry, and he wondered about what might have made Harry so quiet even as tears were shed onto his coat. He wished he could talk to Harry, but when he tried to turn back to human, he got angry screams until he resumed his dog form. Harry had thrown himself on him and held on, and that's where they were at now.

He licked his nose and let out a quiet whine to see if he could prompt Harry to speak. The other three had left a couple hours back when the silence grew too extended for them to tolerate it any longer - Snivellus snarling about having better things to do, Bellatrix with a resigned sigh, and Barty with a helpless shrug.

"Hurt," Harry replied to the unasked question with a muffled voice and held on tighter.

Sirius ignored the pain of his fur being pulled and thumped his tail on the ground. He glanced around the room to see what the dementor was doing, and spotted it hovering by the window. He took his cue from its relaxed stance that the pain was nothing life threatening and settled down to be his godson's pillow. Since it was the only thing he could do right now, he would be the best bloody dog-pillow there ever was for his godson.

Harry kept the room barred to visitors since he began sleeping through the daylight hours, and he seemed to do much better at night. He would poke at his food then, but he still cringed away from the windows though it was dark out. After a couple days passed like that, Sirius watched him grow bolder in exploring his new room by pulling out toys to look at, but they were often discarded to the side when he didn't know what they were for. If he tried to turn into a human to explain, though, he was told "No. Paddy now!"

He got tossed out of the room when he tried to play as paddy, too. Harry was still in a bad mood and didn't want anyone to try to cheer him up, so he had spent the few hours exploring the first floor corridors until he was let back in. The only things that had been out there were dementors, and since it had been night, he hadn't encountered Barty, Bella, or Snivellus. It appeared to him the latter didn't know who he was though Bella did, and he wasn't certain if Barty knew or not. Barty hadn't acknowledged him in any way when he brought or took away food that was provided, though he did notice his own steaks were replaced with things like chopped chicken meat with vegetables and other less luxurious meals like that which the guards normally got. It was still loads better than the mush he had eaten as a prisoner, however.

Harry's meals, on the other hand, were things fit for a king. Mashed yams floating in marshmallow and butter, roasted pheasant, dragon steaks, and other delightful scents wafted off his plate, but he rarely touched his food unless it was left until well past the time the sun had set. Sirius often ate what Harry refused, and Harry occasionally poked at Sirius' meal at night. He found the situation humorous in an ironic way when he considered that the prince would eat the pauper's meal, and he was glad he wasn't given plain dog food since Harry would probably try to eat that.

Harry's sullen silence did worry him since it felt like he had backtracked on the progress he had made to try to get him to open up into a proper little boy. The pain seemed to lessen over the few days they had before lessons, but he still wasn't talking except for a couple of short demands. He figured he'd give Harry a little bit longer to sulk and hoped that a couple weeks of classes would help him open back up again though it galled him to put his hopes on Snivellus and Bellatrix for that. He had some backup plans, though, and he implemented the first one when he heard Barty's footsteps approaching their room off schedule. It meant he would be starting classes today.

"Woof!" he barked as he jumped up on the bed, then began to lick Harry's face, neck, and even his hands when Harry tried to shove him off with a shout.

"No! Bad Paddy! No! Noooo!" Harry cried out as he tried to shove the huge dog off of him, but for once, Paddy didn't listen and continued to drool all over him. "Yucky! No!"

Barty had paused when he heard shouting, and instead of knocking, he cracked open the door to peek inside. There he saw Sirius, as the huge dog, licking and wagging his tail like he was an actual dog while the boy tried to fend off the tongue. He smiled with relief at seeing something so human and normal, then stood and watched the battle that the boy was losing for a minute before clearing his throat.

"My Lord, we must prepare you for classes today," he called out when they didn't appear to notice his more subtle effort at getting their attention.

Sirius dodged the last smack and used the motion to jump off the bed, barking at Harry while wagging his tail.

"Bad Paddy!" the boy grumbled as he sat up, using his new blankets to scrub the slobber off of him. He glared at the They that had hovered off to the side, it hadn't helped him either! It didn't matter that They thought he had been angry about being Up long enough and believed he should be upset about something else!

"My Lord?" Barty tentatively asked, trying to catch the boy's attention.

"No My Lor'," he corrected with a huff to look at the yellow hair. That was Red Eyes deal maker.

Sirius let out a chuckle that came out as a chuff as Barty shrugged. "What should I call you, then?" Barty politely asked as he began glancing around for the boy's odd robes. "And we should dress you, sir."

He waited as They translated for him, then silently summoned They to gather on him as he considered Sir. It was close to Siri which was a name he didn't mind, and he got the concept that it was something that was respect. He liked respect, They and Them shared that with him when he had learned to command Her doors. "Sir," he agreed as he shoved off the blanket to slip off the bed.

Barty silently looked him over, then he pulled out a small case with grooming materials and gestured him to the chair. "Let us make you presentable for your first day then, sir," Barty replied, nervous about going near the shadowy robes but recalling it didn't really do anything. It had been the first time he had seen the boy getting 'dressed,' and it looked like he had stolen all the shadowy corners of the room to do so. Maybe it was the boy's magic.

He carefully brushed the long hair in silence, then tied it back with a green silk ribbon that the child selected when he had offered. Had it not been for the intimidating clothing, the boy would be mistaken for a girl with the cupid-like lips and large eyes, and it made him wonder why they had changed from the glowing slits. He knew that the boy didn't like to talk though, so he didn't ask and instead escorted both him and the dog towards the south wing.

The courtyard was the shortest way there, and as they approached the door, he began speaking, "This is the courtyard, Sir. Here, minimum security prisoners grow vegetables that goes into their meals," he started to say, but realized the boy hadn't followed him outside. He turned back and saw the boy frozen in the doorway with horror in those emerald green eyes.

It was… What was holding the world up?! There was nothing farther up but blue, blue, and white things that could all fall down on him! He clung to the doorway when vertigo slammed down hard, and he shut his eyes to whimper. There was nothing above to keep him safe like a ceiling, and there was a huge bright ball that had really hurt his eyes more than the windows did. It made him feel sick, and he could feel what little he ate the previous night threaten to come up.

' _Master, it's the sky,'_ one of Them explained. He hated it.

' _The white is the clouds.'_ He hated that, too.

' _The ball is the sun…'_ He really really hated that the most.

They shoved the concept of outside at him, and he flinched before relaxing slightly. It was freedom for They, though She would always be their home and security. Freedom and where the food was at. Them seemed to hate it as much as he did, however. It was huge, this new concept, and realizing how small the world he was actually in was what finally made him sick up his food.

It took a minute or so for him to realize that yellow hair had been making mouth noises at him and had crouched down to stroke his head and keep his hair back while he vomited. He made an irritated noise to get him to back away, then retreated back into the hallway instead of stepping out into the courtyard. "No," he said firmly. He would not be going outside, thank you. It was scary, and he didn't like the feeling of fear in him. It made him realize it was much better to taste than to experience. "No."

Barty looked around the courtyard to try to figure out what scared his ward so much, but couldn't spot anything. The prisoners and guards had been cleared out a short time ago, so there were only dementors waiting for the child to come out. Sirius was sitting to the side of the boy, confusion evident even as a dog, and Barty imagined he had a similar expression minus the muzzle and fur on his face as well.

"Er… Shall we take the long way then, My L- Sir?" he asked. He clarified when he just got a tilt of the head in response. "Inside the hallways."

"Okay," the boy agreed, and Barty gave the courtyard one more glance before escorting him through the hallways.

"Classes will always be held in this wing," Barty explained as they approached it. "Your mornings will be with Bella to begin. She might be… uhm… excitable, but she will teach you things like manners for now."

He opened the door into the banquet room. "Breakfast will be taken with her as a result, Sir."

The boy walked past to enter with Sirius close on his heels, and when Sirius saw Bella, he raised his hackles in warning. "Oh, shut up, dog" she hissed at him before he could begin growling, then turned to the boy with a smile. "Orion! Or maybe Corvus?" she corrected when she saw the look of distaste on his face. "No? Well, your name will be something we discuss today, too! First though, we'll begin with eating utensils! Or rather, how to sit down before eating. And you, dog, are to eat your food in the corner like a proper pet."

Sirius growled at her, but when Harry glanced over and gestured for him to obey, he huffed and shuffled off to the side. Rather than eat though, he watched. He wanted to make sure Bellatrix wouldn't add the same punishments his own mother used when teaching him manners as a boy. Though he wasn't hit with the cruciatus at that age, she did use other pain curses that would make his toenail feel like it was being ripped off or his tongue being yanked out just to name a couple.

For the boy, it was the worst meal ever. She explained she was to be his new mother, which would make her his third mother, and decided to call her Mother as a result rather than the initial Aunt Bella she had proposed. It appeared to please her greatly if the feelings he got was any indication, and she was very nice unlike what They said his first two were like. There was no warm gold like he got when he touched over where Lily sat in his tummy, the love thing. He did feel that from Siri/Paddy, though.

It wasn't the food either that made it the worst meal. It was all the confusing steps she kept insisting on. He had to sit down three times before she deemed he did it correctly, then he had to learn about the silvery sticks called forks, knives, and spoons. And there were so many of them and each absolutely had to be used for specific things. He ended up flinging one of them across the room, but that got Paddy in trouble, so he didn't do it again. By the time he was allowed to take the first bite, the meal was cold, and he didn't want to eat again. It was frustrating for everyone by the time he got to that point, and Paddy got hurt again with another crucio, so he forced himself to eat.

"That's good enough for the first time," Mother finally sighed out, her frizzy hair even more frazzled out. "We'll work more on this tonight for dinner. Let's talk about your name."

He really didn't want to talk about a name. He already felt sick from making himself eat, and his head hurt from of all they translating They and Them kept doing so he could understand exactly what she had wanted from him. He groaned in response, but didn't put his head on the table like he wanted to since he knew that was a No.

"Come now, I can't just call you boy," she cooed. "In the Black family, we've always named our children after the stars. Have you seen them yet?"

"No," he replied. "No Outside."

"You haven't been outside?!" she exclaimed. "You were to go through the courtyard!"

He flinched back as he recalled what had happened, and shook his head no. "No 'ort'ar!" he protested. "Hate it."

Mother blinked in surprise. "You… hate the courtyard?" At his nod, she smirked. "Why's that?"

He took a long moment to get the words he wanted from Them, then tried to explain. "Sky… 'louds… Sun…" he pointed to the stone cieling. "No Up!" At her blank expression, he realized she didn't understand. "Faw down? No… No stay up?"

She began laughing, and he felt his face heat up with anger. "You're scared it will fall down?"

He shook his head no. They had explained that wouldn't happen when they pushed the concept at him, so though it was his initial fear and it still stuck, it wasn't the actual part of it. He did notice Paddy was watching with interest for the answer too, and it made him expel his breath with frustration at his inability to explain to them. Stupid mouth talk.

"They say no faw," he told them sternly. "Out… Outside. Big! Wan' stay home."

Mother grew pensive as she watched him. "You'll have to go outside when you are bigger," she explained, and her lips quirked into a smile when she saw his expression get stubborn. "Yes you will. You are the Dark Emperor's heir and people will eventually have to see you." She held up a finger when he opened his mouth to speak. "They will come here first, though, and there is no rush. You have time, so don't worry, we'll take it slow."

He scrunched up his face for a moment, then smoothed it out. Would he really have to go? Why couldn't he stay? This learning thing was biting off more than he could handle. But she did say he would have time, so he gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

"Good! Then let's work on your name." Mother flicked out her wand and a roll of parchment was summoned to her hand. He perked up at that use of magic, but sagged down when he saw it getting unrolled and how it reached the ground but there was still more rolled up. Would this horrible day ever end?

"Now then, I skipped over the ugly sounding stars like Algleba, so let's start with Almach. No? Alnair sounds too close to Macnair, or you will be, and he's a brute. You're more refined than that, so Alrakis? That's in the Draco constellation which is the name of my nephew!"

She paused to look at him in interest as he thought about that name. It sounded close to the first master here, but he could feel the dissatisfaction coming off of Paddy in waves. He sighed and shook his head no again. "No star." He didn't want to be named for something in the sky.

Mother felt sad/upset/frustrated for a moment, and she sighed. "Magical creature?" she asked as she began unfurling the parchment further by rolling up the end she was reading from. He nodded an acceptance for that, so with a smirk, began.

"Then again, there is also Regulus, a royal star that is also Watcher of the North and we're in the Northern Sea," she said as that name caught her eyes. And it was Sirius's younger brother who turned traitor, too.

He didn't bother to reply, letting Sirius's angry barks answer for him. Instead, he gave her a bored look that made her purse her lips. "Fine, how about Hydrus? A Hydra is a nine headed creature, and when you chop off one head, two more grow in. It is a fearsome beast, but it's extremely rare if not completely extinct since it hasn't been sighted in over a century," she further explained as neither Sirius nor the boy seemed to dislike it at first. "It is also used in ancient runes for the magical number of nine." And it was a constellation, but she didn't add that.

He didn't feel that Paddy disliked it - probably because it was kind of close to the other name. They and Them agreed it showed strength, and he didn't want to sit here discussing names the whole time. So he nodded an agreement. "Okay."

"The Dark Lord will be pleased since it is also a serpent!" Mother exclaimed with a large smile. "And this didn't take long at all! I will need to write him, so you have the next hour free until your class with Snape begins!"

She rushed out with the parchment still clutched in her hand, and he and Paddy watched it catch in the doorway and tear off as she continued on, not even noticing what had happened. Paddy's tongue lolled out in silent laughter, and he, Hydrus, sighed and turned back to the utensils to twiddle with them. After a bit, Paddy jumped up on the table and began eating the remainders of the breakfast since she had prepared him prisoner mush in a dog food bowl with 'Spot' labeled on the side.

When Barty came in with the lunch tray an hour later, it was to see the dog and the boy napping together on top of the table. He cringed at the thought of what might have happened had Bellatrix been around, then wondered where she was. Quietly, so as not to disturb his ward, he set down the covered lunch tray and began to collect the remnants of breakfast.

The clinking made Sirius open an eye to see what was going on, but he didn't move from his position as dog-pillow as he watched Barty.

"Where did Bellatrix go?" he whispered to the dog when he saw him staring. That let Sirius know that Barty knew, so he used his eyes and looked out the door. Barty rolled his own since it was obvious, so Sirius elaborated by looking down at the parchment in the doorway and gave a dog-grin of amusement since he knew that wasn't much of an explanation at all. Barty narrowed his eyes at the expression, then turned thoughtful while he finished cleaning the table.

"How about we make a deal?" he whispered, and Sirius turned wary. He would not betray his godson, but Barty shook his head since it was obvious what was thought when Sirius had glanced at the boy. "No, I don't want to hurt him. My life and position is at stake if I don't make him happy, actually, but I don't know how. When he's sleeping, how about we meet up? I'll provide you with better meals than Bellatrix will, and we can talk about how to best serve him. You had Merlin knows how long with him down below, and I don't think cauldron cakes will keep him happy."

Sirius considered the deal as Barty explained what he wanted and was offering in turn, then gave a slow nod though he bared his teeth in warning about betrayal. Barty understood the gesture and nodded in return. They both turned to look at the sleeping boy. "He looks so normal like that," Barty sighed quietly. "I suppose I should wake him to eat, though. Isn't he sleeping at night?" Sirius shook his head no, then glanced at the window. "He sleeps during the day?" At the nod, Barty turned thoughtful. "I suppose he hasn't been exposed to much light in the seventh level…" Sirius nodded again, then started licking Harry - er, Hydrus' face to wake him.

"No… Paddy!" Hydrus whined, trying to curl up so he could sleep longer.

"Master? It's lunch time," Barty coaxed. "Then your second class is next, and Severus appears like he will be more strict."

Hydrus groaned, then sat up with a blink as he took in his surroundings. He frowned when he recalled the morning's lesson, then groaned again when what Barty said was translated.

"Please eat your lunch, and I will straighten your hair while you do."

Hydrus groggily poked at his lunch while Barty groomed him the same way he had that morning, but this time he selected a grey ribbon that reminded him of Paddy's eyes. When it became time for his next lessons, he had managed to clear away a lot of his grogginess, but he still sleepily stumbled a couple times as they went to the opposite side of the south wing. Barty explained that Mother and Severus didn't get along well, so they chose to be as far apart as possible. Hydrus didn't care.

He entered the new room with Paddy at his heels and saw his second tutor writing white squigglies on a large black square. There were two chairs and two desks in the room, one by Snape and one in the middle. Uncertain where he should sit, he silently waited but not for long.

"Sit in the center," Severus ordered curtly as he continues to write the day's lessons on the board. "And no speaking."

He was fine with that, and the words this time was simple enough for him to understand so he took his seat.

"In case you didn't catch it, my name is Severus Snape. You may call me Professor Snape, or sir. I was ordered by the Dark Lord to teach you magical theory, basic history, the rise of the Dark Empire, and the basics of the Dark Arts," Severus silkily began, turning as he heard the growling when he mentioned the last two topics. A silent stupify shot at the beast subdued it before it could go further, and he met the boy's eyes for the first time to skim his thoughts only to freeze.

He knew those eyes… They belonged to Lily.

The boy and Snape stared at each other for long minutes, the former curiously and the latter in denial. Severus opened and closed his mouth a couple times, lost for words, then he jerked his eyes away.

"Who was your mother, boy?" he spat out bitterly, sure the world was playing a cruel joke. There was no way Lily could have born the Dark Lord a child.

"Aunt Bella." She was his Mother now, after all.

"No, you dunderhead!" Severus snapped. "The woman that gave birth to you!"

Hydrus paused since he didn't understand, but Them supplied him with the expected answer. "Lily." He paused for a second, then added "And Goy'."

Severus turned his back to the boy and clutched his chest. The wound left behind from losing Lily was ripped open by the unexpected surprise, and he silently cursed Voldemort for forcing her to conceive his child. But no, she hadn't survived a full nine months in Azkaban. His hectic thoughts and grieving cleared slightly when he recalled that she had actually been pregnant at her trial… But how did the boy live though she had died? Did this also mean he was Potter's spawn?

He turned to look at the child again and noticed he had not moved. Nor did he fidget like other brats his age. The day they had met, he didn't really get a good look at the boy between the dog's attacks and Bellatrix's hovering, but now he had an unimpeded view. He had noted the pale skin initially, and that was the only thing he had though he needed to know along with the unnaturalness the boy exuded to believe it to be the Dark Lord's child, but he could note other details from Lily. The child had her lips and nose along with her slim fingers that had competed with him for top position in potion classes. He also had Potter's facial structure and dark hair, though it wasn't messy like his nor curly like hers. He assumed it was the length that made it fall straight, then slowly shook his head.

"No," he whispered. Her child had been locked up in Azkaban all these years?! No wonder it was all but a creature! Then he recalled hearing about the threat of turning the boy into an assassin during the trial, and started to grow fearful for the boy. He refused to turn Lily's child into her worst fears even if she was dead.

"...Sir?" Hydrus asked. The anguish and hurt coming off of him had been great, but now there was a little bit of fear, and he remembered how horrible that felt this morning. With it still fresh in his mind, he didn't want to sense it in another.

"Potter?"

Hydrus scowled. That was breaking the deal! "No. Hydrus! Mother name me." He would not cause Paddy more pain, he was sleeping as it was.

"Lily named you Hydrus?" Severus asked, but got a shaked of the head for no. "Did Lily name you?"

Another silent no.

"Bellatrix?"

This time he got a nod, and he sighed. The boy hadn't even had a name, apparently.

"Can you speak?"

Hydrus hesitated to that question, then slowly shook his head. "No… No good."

Severus scowled to hide the next pang in his chest. "Class is dismissed, then. No more class. I need to make different lessons to teach you to talk first."

It took a moment, but Hydrus nodded then gave the stupefied dog a pointed look.

Severus sighed. "I teach you. You teach dog no bite. Deal?"

Hydrus blinked, then smiled and nodded. Telling Siri not to bite his teacher would be easy, and he would learn the mouth sounds in return. He definitely felt like he was getting the good part of the deal with this. "Okay."

" _Ennervate,_ " Severus said after pointing his wand at the dog. It immediately stood up, raised its hackles, and prepared to lunge at him, but Hydrus intervened.

"Bad Paddy! Home!" he demanded, grabbing the chain and yanking the dog towards the door.

Severus watched as the small boy pulled the huge beast out and was grateful that it listened. If the dog had wanted to attack him, there was no way that the child could have prevented it. Apparently he had had a friend while growing up down here at least, and felt a bit of relief for that even if it was something as alarming as that creature. It was far too intelligent to be just a dog, but it did not have the red eyes of a grim. It could have possibly have been a dog or a crup bred with a grim, and with the Dark Lord, he would not have been surprised if that was the case.

With the two gone, he sat down heavily in his chair and opened up the top drawer on his desk to pull out an old journal he used to write his potion notes in. He flipped through it and stopped where he had hidden a photograph at, and softly ran his fingers over the surface of it. It was a picture that was taken of him and Lily together after their first year of Hogwarts and it didn't move since her parents were the ones to take the photo, but it showed them both working on their summer assignments together. She was smiling at the camera, and he was gazing at her. Hydrus looked so similar to her in this photo as long as he ignored Potter's features, and it made him wonder how the boy would have looking with Lily's red hair.

Reaching into his desk again, he pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey, unscrewed the cap, and drank it straight without looking away from the photo. "Lily, what should I do?" he whispered. He didn't know, but he would not be killing the boy. He could possibly turn him as a weapon to use on the Dark Lord to avenge Lily and give the boy his freedom.

He took another long drink, then put away both the bottle and the book with the picture. Either way, he had years to replan his original course, and now he had more hope for success with Hydrus if he played his hand right. First he would have to make sure to secure the boy's loyalty and he had to make sure that the child would have all the tools and knowledge he needed to succeed.

Severus Snape stayed up late into the night owl ordering books he would need to teach the basics and redoing his whole lesson plan.

* * *

AN: Thank you for all the reviews, support, and kind words!

Sad-faced Guest Reviewer: I'd like to thank you for your review especially. Part of what makes it hard to update is knowing so much time passes in between them, and knowing that my readers are willing to be patient helps ease that burden.

My medication doses were lowered… Apparently one of them was what had been making my anxiety so bad these last couple years. Last year I think there were only 2 chappies released because of that, so I have high hopes to update this at least once a month or more.


	15. Changes

Chapter 15 - Changes

Disclaimer: Look at the prior chapters.

' _Outcast. Exiled. Shunned. I have brought the remains of the last of my followers with me to this desolate part of the ocean to rebuild after destroying my last city. Those weak-minded fools sought to stop me from my research, and now nothing remains of them or it. My own children had turned against me, so I disowned them in the most final of ways._

 _Do I regret my actions? I once would have. But my goals are far more important than any bonds I may have once had with them, and that they refused their support at the most crucial of moments meant their life was forfeit. My most loyal still remain, and I shall rebuild upon this desolate rock, and it shall endure.'_ Page 1 of Ekrizdis' diary

* * *

Hydrus glared at the wall in his room while paddy shivered on the floor behind him. The round of crucios from this morning's session with his new mother came frequently when she lost her patience with him over using silverware. It had been weeks since he had been brought Above, and he still hated it.

He hated how weak puppy was.

He hated how the light burned his eyes.

He hated how the humans kept trying to get him to go outside where there was Nothing above. No rocks, no Them, no nothing but the painful brightness, the blue sky, and the threatening clouds.

He missed the simple life of Below.

He thought of letting They eat Paddy just so mother couldn't keep using it against him, but his chest would start hurting before he could act on it. He didn't understand where the pain would come from, but holding his puppy would lessen it. No matter how much puppy was hurting, it would lick his face to try to make him happy, but sometimes he would hate that also because puppy should be resting.

"No more class for puppy," he informed Paddy, without looking at him. "No more."

Paddy whined behind him in denial. "No!" He would not be swayed in his decision. If Paddy was not in class, then mother could not torture him.

Over the weeks, he had gotten to know his new teachers. Mister Sev did not like the Dark Lord - he could feel the dislike. Mister Sev also seemed to hate him sometimes, but at other times he would soften - especially when their eyes would meet. Mister Sev also tried to communicate with him once like how They and Them did. He felt him in his mind. But They surges out of the borders and did something that made Mister Sev scream and scream and scream, and he did not try that again. Class was dismissed early that day, but mother had got to him before he could start exploring.

Mother was the opposite of Mister Sev. While Mister Sev was careful not to show outside what he was feeling inside, she never held back. Some days she was very nice and could be fun. Other days, like today, her idea of fun was making Paddy suffer, and he did not like her at all on these days. It made him wish he was as big as Mister Sev so he could cause her pain.

He looked forward to the day when she would sacrifice her life for him. That is what mothers do, and what all of his had done so far. When that day came, he would make sure she felt a lot of pain.

Them purred in his mind as he thought that, and he felt himself relax a little. That was another thing, too. He had learned that They were called dementors by the humans, but Them were never mentioned. Them urged him never to tell, to keep Them a secret. When he asked why, he was informed he needed to learn, and the secrets were Below.

Everything was Below. He had tried to go back on his free weekends, but the journey was long and he did not know the upper levels. He had only managed to find the stairs to go one level lower the last weekend because the people behind the bars kept distracting him. Some would beg and plead to be let go while others would try to ask him questions. He would reply to none, but some had interesting feelings that would get him to sit and stare at them while trying to puzzle it out. His stare would scare them after some time, though, so he couldn't figure it out before they started begging as well.

He sighed, then felt puppy lick his hand. All the stupid thinking had distracted him from his anger, and now Paddy was trying to comfort him again. He thought about hitting puppy and telling him to go to bed to rest, but another lick made him reconsider and he turned around to pet him instead.

"No more hurt, Paddy," he explained, then hugged puppy to ease the pain in his chest. He noticed it also often helped puppy's pain, too. "My puppy! Stay away from Mother."

Paddy lathered his tongue all over his face, and Hydrus tried to push him back, but Paddy was bigger and stronger and really wanted him to feel better so he couldn't push him off. It wasn't until the boy was struggling on the ground and laughing when the dog pulled back.

Hydrus looked at him, and this his chest wrenched. He burst into tears.

The door opened and Barty looked in, worry and anxiety pouring off of him in waves. "Master? What's wrong, are you hurt?"

Hydrus shook his head and tried to wipe the tears off of his face. He didn't know what was wrong, only that he looked at Paddy and thought about how unfair it was that he was comforting him when he was the one tortured this morning.

Barty came over and crouched by the boy on the floor, but when he tried to wrap an arm around him, it got smacked away. He looked at Sirius and saw the state of the dog's uncontrollable shivers, and thought he understood.

"Bellatrix again, huh?" he sighed, sitting down as close as he dared to Hydrus. "Don't worry about puppy, Hydrus. He doesn't like to see you cry… See how sad it makes him?"

Hydrus hiccuped and looked at his puppy, but the sad expression made him look away because it hurt his chest again. He clenched his fist there. "Hurts here… why?" he asked, refusing to look at anyone.

"That is called heartbreak, master. You love your puppy, so it hurts to see him hurt, and he also hurts to see you hurt," Barty explained slowly. "Puppy is very strong, though. If you are happy, he will be happy also, okay?"

Hydrus considered it for a long moment, then realized it as truth. Puppy had been happy when he was laughing on the floor, but now the pain coming off of him was the same as his. He crawled closer to puppy and hugged him, and felt the dog's pain ease, and it eased his own. "Kay," he finally agreed while holding Paddy tight and getting licks on the top of his head in return.

"Let's get you cleaned up for class," Barty said. "Mister Sev doesn't like it when we are late."

Hydrus liked Mister Sev more since he never hurt puppy for no reason like Mother did sometimes. As long as he listened and obeyed, and puppy didn't attack, Mister Sev would leave him alone. But Barty was best since he liked puppy also. "Why you no teach?" he huffed as he pulled away to allow his face to be wiped clean. "Mister Barty is nice to Paddy."

Barty chuckled and tucked away the handkerchief he had used into his robes. "Because the Dark Lord wanted me to take care of your well being," he said as he stood up, then offered his hand to help the boy up. "Teachers are supposed to be not nice, or people don't learn."

Hydrus held up his arms once he stood, and his silent demand to be carried to class was obeyed. "I would learn!" he denied. "Have to learn."

"A servant cannot teach," Barty replied. "Why do you have to learn?"

Hydrus hesitated on a reply, then looked forward to watch the corridor with its blue torches. "Secret."

"You're too young to have secrets, aren't you?"

"Secret!" he insisted again. He was told not to tell anyone about Them, and he thought it was a good idea to keep the things Below and the connection he shared about They to himself, too.

"Okay, okay. After class today, I'll introduce you to a new dessert. It's called No-Melt ice cream and I think you might like it more than Cauldron Cakes."

"Nuh uh!" Hydrus denied. Cauldron cakes were the best! "Cakes too!"

"Okay, okay… But don't tell anyone I spoil you, okay? It's another secret of ours."

Hydrus giggled and nodded an agreement, then they arrived to Mister Sev's door where he was set down. It was opened for him, and he and Paddy entered.

"Almost late," Mister Sev drawled without looking away from the blackboard he was writing on. "Were you neglecting your duties, Barty?"

Hydrus rolled his eyes as he quietly took his seat. Mister Sev had his own form of fun trying to make Barty feel fear of the Dark Lord or by making his mother angry. Once class had gone by with Mister Sev and mother yelling and sending curses at each other the whole time, even! That was why only Mister Barty brought him to Mister Sev's classroom now.

"Of course not, Snape," Barty huffed. "Bella's class was just very taxing on the dog, so Hydrus was very upset."

Mister Sev glanced over at Paddy, then flicked his wand at one of the shelves. A bottle floated from it to Hydrus. "Have your dog drink that, Hydrus. I'm sure you'll pay attention better if your dog isn't a pathetic and shivering mess."

Paddy growled at the insult while Hydrus grabbed the bottle, but he didn't have the energy to do more than that. The walk had already drained his puppy, so shoving the bottle in his mouth to make him drink was easy. "Be good, Paddy," he told his puppy sternly, then took his seat once he saw the shivering subside. "Thank you, Mister Sev."

Snape gave him a curt nod, and Barty let himself out. "Today, we are going over vowels…"

* * *

The rest of the day progressed. The lesson was boring, but Hydrus was learning to read and write. The thought of reading the books over his fireplace and in the other rooms Below encouraged him to learn as quickly as he could, and he could feel how Mister Sev was impressed with his progress at the end of the lesson. He even got a book called ' _The Tales of Beedle the Bard'_ and was told to read it when he could, and when he looked inside, there were colors and stuff that was amazing.

Mister Barty read the first story to him that night after the ice cream, ' _Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump.'_ He really loved the dessert, but the pictures and being told what things were in them was more interesting. He had a vague recollection of what a bunny was, but couldn't recall why he knew it, only that he had seen one Below once and that he thought of the Dark Lord with a bunny. When he mentioned that to Barty, he got a laugh and was told he would pay a hundred galleons to see that. Asking what a galleon was got him a lecture on galleons, sickles, and knuts, but he fell asleep during it.

When morning came, it came with the usual amount of slobber when Paddy woke him up. After the late night, he was still tired, but he stumbled out of bed after fending off the dog and went to his wardrobe. He gave the robes a sour look, then silently summoned Them to him so that he wouldn't have to wear clothes and commanded them to look like one of them. Mother hadn't been grabbing him lately, so she would never know.

Mister Barty opened the door and peeked in. "Oh good, you're awake and dressed, Master," he said as he entered. "I will brush your hair then."

Hydrus frowned, then grinned and pulled at Them to show he was wearing his shadows today. "Secret!"

Mister Barty snorted with amusement at the grin, but it changed into concern. "You should wear your normal clothes or puppy will get hurt," he said, then made to go towards the wardrobe.

"No. Puppy stays here."

Barty glanced back, ready to explain why clothes were necessary, then saw the stubborn expression. "Alright, Hydrus," he sighed. "But no fussing while I brush your hair today, okay? And this time you keep the ribbon in."

Hydrus thought to argue further, but he conceded with a nod and sat down on the chair Mister Barty liked him to sit in to get his hair brushed. He winced a few times with the bigger knots, but it was over with rather quickly and his hair was tied back. He enjoyed the warmth it provided when it hung free, but mother said it was inappropriate if he was to keep his long hair, and he would rather not give her a reason to cut it today.

"All done, Master. Let's go to breakfast."

Hydrus really hated these classes. Mister Sev's class taught him things he could use, like reading and writing and spell demonstrations. Mother's classes made no sense to him though. Who cared if someone used their hands to eat or picked up a bowl to drink the gross water they call soup? Mister Barty didn't care if he ate his dinner like that, and Mister Sev said is was disgusting to eat like that around people. He had no want to be around people, though.

He dragged his feet on the way to breakfast, then sulkily entered. Because of that, he did not notice Paddy silently sneaking in with him, nor curling up in the shadow of the chair that he took a seat in.

"Good morning, Hydrus!" Mother cheerfully greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, mother," he grumbled, still angry with her over yesterday.

"You forgot your greeting, Hydrus. You will learn manners since the Dark Lord wants you to learn."

"'M sorry. Good morning, mother."

Bellatrix let out a sigh of exasperation, and it made him cringe. Another day of no patience so it was a good thing he left puppy in his room. He hastily cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I forgot greeting," he said, struggling to complete his sentence like how she was trying to teach him. "Good morning an' I slept good."

She frowned in reply, but nodded. "It's 'I slept well,' Hydrus, but much better," she lectured, then clapped her hands together once and smiled widely at him. "Now, shall we start breakfast?"

"Yes, mother," he said, then stared down at the selection of utensils before him. Today, salad was on the table, so that meant a fork. But which one? There were three, and they weren't even lined up by size. The largest was in the middle and the smallest was by the plate. His hand hovered over the three, and he grabbed the largest one in his fist.

' _Crucio!'_

Hydrus dropped the fork and huddled back against in chair thinking she was casting at him, but the yelp made him realize his mistake. Puppy had come with him! He had told puppy to stay in the room, and this time mother hadn't given him a single warning!

"NO!" he screamed, but mother held the spell on Paddy, and Paddy began howling with pain. He felt something crumble inside of him then, and he saw red when all of the anger, frustration, and sadness surged out from the pain inside of his chest. "NO!" he screamed again, and saw the eating utensils shoot forward off of the table really fast.

Most of them harmlessly pelted her and the wall behind her, but it was one of knives stabbing into her arm that cut off her spell casting. ' _Fish knife,_ ' his own mind supplied, which meant fish was going to be the main course for breakfast. Other than that, his thoughts were blank as they both stared at the knife sticking out of her arm in shock. Finally, mother began to cackle.

' _Ooooh, she's snapped!'_ one of Them sang in his head. That got him moving, and he quickly hopped off the chair to place himself between her and Puppy while warily watching her. Her reaction was very weird since he seemed genuinely happy, but that meant someone was about to be in a lot of pain.

"My ickle Hydrus has finally shown accidental magic!" Mother gasped out between laughter. "Oooh, and I paid the price, I did!"

She pulled out the knife and blood gushed out, but the table prevented him from watching it splatter on the ground. Instead, he watched her wave her wand over the wound, closing the flesh, then repairing the robes over that. "Such a good boy," she cooed at him then. "You'll be the perfect heir!"

Behind him, he could hear Paddy getting up, but he kicked back with his leg when puppy tried to get in front of him again. He glared silently at his mother the whole time.

"Now, now, Hydrus, it's time to celebrate!" Bellatrix tried to soothe, but it just served to confuse him further. "I won't be hurting your dog when you've been such a good boy!"

He began scooting backwards towards the door while trying to keep Paddy behind him, but the dog was also wanting to protect him so he got tripped up instead and fell down. Paddy took the opportunity to stand over him and growled at Bellatrix, and she shook her head in response.

"Sirius, he just did accidental magic!" she crowed as she came around the table and advanced on them. "Better yet, he stabbed me! That just shows he's the Dark Lord's son. He has killer instincts, and I would expect nothing less! I'm not going to hurt him, so move aside."

When she got too close, he ignored her and lunged forward, but her wand was faster. 'Stupify! Stupid mutt,' she huffed as she dodged his now unconscious body, then fell victim to Hydrus's own lunge as he threw himself at her legs. She screamed when he bit into it, and then then began rolling around on the ground. He bit and scratched at everything he could while she tried to push him off, and then he felt her anger grow until she really did snap.

' _Crucio!'_ she shouted again, and this time he felt the bite of the spell. It was pain beyond anything he had ever felt before, and though it lasted only a second, it felt like hooks had been dragged under his skin for hours.

He heard screaming and shut his mouth, but it still continued. Though it hurt, he opened his eyes and saw her laying in front of him, and though it was Them that was spread out over her, he could feel waves of anger coming off of the arm she was grabbing. That anger was familiar, but he was still hurting too much to wonder why he could feel the Dark Lord there when he was nowhere near this area.

' _We're sorry, Beloved. We couldn't stop her in time!'_ Them whispered in his mind.

' _Oh no, but we're making the feeling of failure from the Dark Lord's displeasure much worse,'_ another bragged.

' _They are coming to exact revenge if you wish, Master.'_

Hydrus groaned as he rolled over onto his hands and knees, then he sought out They in his mind. They were feeling wrathful for what was their had been harmed, and They were coming in a swarm. He thought about letting They have her, but then shook his head and sent out a silent negative. The Dark Lord would take puppy if he took one of the teachers, and he knew that he would be visiting again with how angry he was at mother.

Hydrus smirked and looked forward to the next visit.

* * *

The Dark Lord had been going over plans during the morning, but a rising sense of anger began to distract him. He tried to shrug it off, and then it peaked before suddenly disappearing.

The odd anomaly was the same as what had happened the day prior, and he frowned while staring down at his paperwork. Yesterday, he had been with Lucius and thought it was the other man's presence that was angering him, but he was alone right now.

He sat there with unfocused eyes while comparing the two instanced for similarities. Another minute passed, and just as he was about to dismiss it, he was hit with blinding pain. He knew in that it was the torture curse, but he had seen no spell come at him. Then he snarled when he realized it was coming through the connection with the boy, and he sent his anger through the connection of the Dark Mark to every Death Eater in Azkaban. When the pain stopped, he could still feel trace amounts of it because of the boy, but he ignored it to gather up a couple things to see who dared harm what was his.

He kept an eye on the tenuous connection as he grabbed a handful of floo dust and felt the boy's anticipation for his visit, and his own lips twisted into a smirk. He stepped into the floo and made the journey to the boat docks that would take him to Azkaban.

So the boy wanted to see him extract revenge, did he? He wondered which one of his servants was stupid enough to go against his order as he stepped out of the flames.

The journey threatened to be delayed because his appearance had been unexpected, but an _Avada Kedavra_ had quickly sorted through the excuses of not having a boat prepared and got him out on the water. Both guards manning the boat were terrified enough to make it his quickest journey yet with the help of the good weather, so it was around noon by the time the dark and salt encrusted rocks were seen. He didn't wait until the boat was secured with ropes - he made the short flight himself onto the docks and strode through the doors.

"My Lord, w-we weren't expe-" the first guard stuttered out in surprise, going into a deep bow, but he cut him off.

"This is obviously a surprise visit," he coldly informed. "Where is the boy… Hydrus, isn't it?"

"After Bellatrix collapsed, he was sent to his room. Snape's lessons are not due for another hour, my Lord."

"Escort me to his room, now. And cancel the afternoon class."

The guard obeyed, and he was led down hallways of blue torches. "The light… When did this happen?" he asked.

"As soon as Hydrus came up, my Lord," the guard said with a shiver. "It's unnatural, it is. We stay away from it."

The rest of the trip progressed in silence with the guard too scared to say anything. Voldemort pondered the blue fire he had only seen in the bottom level during that time.

"You are dismissed," he informed the guard once they reached the room, then entered without knocking. On the floor was the remains of a lunch that had barely been touched, another tray that held raw meat that was also barely touched, and the boy cuddled up on the bed with his dog.

Barty sat on the chair in the corner, but he jumped up as soon as he saw the Dark Lord and bowed low. 'My Lord," he greeted in a low voice to keep from waking the sleeping child. "Hydrus said you would be coming, but I don't think he expected it this soon."

"Did he?" he asked, eyes narrowing. He wondered for a moment if the boy was trying to manipulate him, but dismissed it as preposterous. Most likely he was smart enough to know that he would come after his orders were disobeyed. "Nevermind. Report."

"Bellatrix is… in a bad state, my Lord," Barty explained. "I'm not too sure on the details, but she hit him with a curse and ended up… well… I think he used accidental magic. All I could get from her was pleas of forgiveness, my Lord. And she was covered in… shadows."

Voldemort frowned, then looked over to the bed. Red eyes met green ones, and he could see that the boy had been crying from how blood shot they were. Those eyes showed no remorse, however, so he was satisfied.

"Hydrusss," he said, testing the name out loud again for a second time. The boy blinked then struggled to sit up while keeping a firm hold of the chain around the dog's neck. Sirius did not dare to growl, but the muzzle was pulled back and teeth were bared. He ignored the animagus to study the boy.

The long hair was messy and he was naked but partially covered by the black blankets. Another glance around the room showed there were no robes on the floor nor any shadows in sight. The boy was no longer slightly tinged with blue from cold, either, but his skin was still the palest he had ever seen. Hydrus was also studying him, he noticed.

"Why are you not dressed, Hydrus?" he asked to see what the response would be.

Hydrus closed his eyes briefly to summon Them, and when he opened them again, he was covered. He didn't understand their aversion to nakedness, but he had accepted it as fact and moved on. He stood up instead to give the bow he had been learning, though it was made awkward by having to hold Paddy's chain. Paddy hated the Dark Lord the same as how he hated mother right now. Maybe more.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," he said slowly as he met the red eyes again, trying to clearly enunciate each word. "Was sleepy. I was sleeping, I mean."

Inwardly, Hydrus wondered why the Dark Lord had no hair. All the other humans had no hair. They had no hair also, but They also had no legs. Them had no bodies at all.

"What of the regular robes I had sent to you, Hydrus?" Voldemort asked in return.

"Is… scratchy," he replied, crinkling his face as he searched for the proper words. "I do not like them, my Lord."

Voldemort pursed his lips in return and looked over the boy once more. He supposed that wool would feel scratchy against such pale and delicate looking skin, even if it was of the fine quality that it was. He did not come to discuss the boy's clothing, however.

"What happened today, Hydrus?" he asked instead. Hydrus' lips and eyes tightened, and the green eyes glanced over to Barty.

"He is still very upset about the incident, my Lord," Barty hurriedly explained, then threw himself to the ground. "I beg for patience. He has refused to speak with me as well, but I believe it's because she's been mercilessly torturing his dog."

Voldemort turned to look at Sirius and saw the effects of long term exposure to the Cruciatus, and his own lips thinned as he considered the situation. "Have you been refusing to learn from Bellatrix, Hydrus?" he calmly asked.

Hydrus shook his head. He could feel the Dark Lord's anger, but he knew it was not for him. He worried it might be for puppy, though. "No, I try to learn," he explained. "There are many rules and it is hard."

"Why was your dog hurt today?"

"Wrong fork. My Lord."

"How many times did you get the fork wrong?"

"One. Then the knife fly and hit her. Askiden."

Voldemort paused to consider, then realized he meant it was an accident. "Did you throw the knife, Hydrus?" he asked.

"No, my Lord. Got angry and it fly," Hydrus explained, relaxing a little since the Dark Lord had not been getting more angry.

"Accidental magic then?"

Hydrus paused, then gave a slow nod. That's what mother had said this morning. "What is that?" he asked.

Voldemort lifted a brow at Barty, wondering why the boy did not even know about that, but explained anyway. "When we are young like you are, sometimes magic happens even without a wand," he said, pulling out his wand to show him that. "Only the most powerful of wizards, like me, can use magic without a wand." To prove his point, he levitated the chair for a moment, then smirked as Hydrus' eyes went wide.

"Will I be powerful?" Hydrus asked once the chair was set down.

"Only time will tell, Hydrus. So tell me what happened next."

"Mother came over and puppy tried to stop her," he said slowly while trying to recall the order right. "Puppy was not moving then, so I try to stop her and bit and then pain."

Voldemort flicked his wand to conjure a chair and sat down. "So you went to class this morning, and Bellatrix, who has you called her mother, was teaching you about utensils?" he asked.

Hydrus hesitated then frowned and looked down at himself to poke the Them covering him for help.

'She doesn't teach you, Master!' one giggled. 'Oh no, she expects you to know right away but doesn't teach!'

"No, my Lord," he said, trying to repeat them. "She ecks.. expecs to know but no teach. Just hurt puppy if wrong."

"Look at me, Hydrus," Voledmort replied, tired of trying to get a clear answer, "and think about this morning's lessons carefully."

Their eyes met, and Voldemort dove into the boy's mind. Initially it was eerily silent and dark, then he felt another foreign presence briefly before it backed down when the boy silently acknowledged it. It happened in an instant that was almost too fast to follow, then he felt the boy floundering briefly before the memory was brought up. Initially it was hazy, but it became very clear quickly.

He reviewed the memory twice before he withdrew, then he studied the boy once more. "What was that?" he asked.

"Morning lesson." At the glare, Hydrus quickly added "My Lord."

"I mean what happened before the memory?"

"Secret," Hydrus replied, knowing it would cause problems but not wanting to give away They.

" _Crucio!"_

Hydrus threw himself in front of Paddy, but the screams that came were not puppy's howls. He looked around and saw Mister Barty writhing on the floor and stared with fascination.

"If I keep this on him, he will break," Voldemort cooly informed over the screams. "Do you care about Barty, Hydrus?"

The question snapped him out of the fascination and he pondered it carefully. Mister Barty gave him desserts, and they had just started reading the book together. Hydrus gave a slow nod, and the Dark Lord released the curse.

"If you don't want him to break, you will tell me your secret."

Hydrus frowned and wondered if he cared enough to tell. He didn't think he did. "I don't care," he said.

"Do you hear that, Barty?" the Dark Lord chuckled with amusement. "He doesn't care about you after all. A dog is more important than you are."

Barty bit back the sob that almost came out from the pain and shook his head. "The… He won't tell anyone a-about his sh-shadows, m-my Lord," he choked out. "I don't think s-Sirius knows, either. They c-came with him from b-below."

Red eyes trailed over the dog before they went back to the boy who was standing defiantly in front of it. "Is that so, Hydrus?"

Hydrus gave a short nod. He was fine with the misunderstanding.

"And you command them?"

He tilted his head slightly. Did he command them? He would tell them what to do and they did it, but they also did stuff on their own. "Sometimes."

"Is that what you were doing before the memory?"

He pursed his lips, then gave a grudging nod.

"Did you command them to attack Bellatrix at the end of your memory?"

He shook his head no. "Protecting me, my Lord."

Red eyes trailed down to the wispy 'robes' and he gave a thoughtful nod. He recalled gold eyes appearing all over them before. "Do they talk to you?" he asked.

' _Say no, Beloved. It's better he thinks we are not smart.'_

He didn't think they were smart anyway since they needed words unlike They. That thought got a huff of indignation, but he shook his head no in reply.

"How do you command them, then?"

He furrowed his brow and tried to explain. "Think but no words, my Lord."

"Hmm… so you've been exposed to a form of legilimency all of your life," the Dark Lord mused out loud. "That explains the clarity of your memory, though it took you a bit to figure out how to bring it up. Am I right?"

"Lilimeesy?"

"Li-jeh-leh-men-see," he enunciated slowly. "That is the magic skill to see into people's minds."

Green eyes brightened at the understanding, and Hydrus nodded. That was also what Mister Sev had done, he realized. "Only minds?" he asked, wondering if it applied to how he could feel people's feelings.

"What they are thinking at the time and their memories," he explained.

Hydrus nodded again.

"Barty, what is Bella's current state?" he asked as he turned to the blonde who had recovered enough to sit up.

"She was hysterical, my Lord," Barty reported. "Severus had to administer two calming draughts, then finally a sleepless dream when those failed to help."

The Dark Lord frowned, unhappy that he was unable to punish her, but then he glanced over to the boy that had shown to be more interesting than he had thought a child could be.

"Inform Snape to make a list of supplies he might need, then to come join us," he said. "Hydrus. I think I will take a hand in your education today. We will be going out."

"O-outside?" he asked,stuttering from the sudden fear. "No."

"He's afraid of the sky, my Lord," Barty quickly explained, turning the Dark Lord's surge of anger into curiosity instead. "We have been a couple times a week, but he will fight and scream each time before the dementor's intercede. They have been allowing us to try until he gets out of hand."

The Dark Lord had read about instances of muggled being locked up long enough to be afraid of going out. As he stared at the boy, he figured that was the case here. He felt secure being enclosed and was not used to such openness.

"That is a weakness," he told the glaring boy. "Just like your dog being hurt is a weakness."

"Don't need to go outside," Hydrus replied, refusing to acknowledge the truth of the statement.

"And what will you do if someone drags you outside?"

That was the only warning he got before he felt a hook around his knee. Next thing he knew, he was fighting and screaming while upside down in the air, and when he saw puppy about to lunge, Barty used the stupify spell while giving him an apologetic look.

"No! Nooo! Won'!" he screamed, but there was nobody to hit or bite and Them refused to leave him.

' _It's okay, Beloved,'_ one soothed while he continued to scream down the corridors. Barty was also trying to shush and soothe him, but he ignored the traitor. ' _We'll stay as long as we can. It's good to know outside and not be afraid! They go out all the time and fly in the sky!'_

Hydrus began crying as they got closer to the door that would lead them to the courtyard out of fear and being helpless. The Dark Lord ignored it, thought he felt he was extremely irritated, and tried to choke back the sobs but it made him start coughing instead. By the time they got to the door, he had vomited once, and Barty had cleaned it up with his wand.

"This is what fear does to you," the Dark Lord told him, and the wave of disgust that came off of him made Hydrus feel humiliated. "So here's your first lesson, then."

A flick of the wand sent him to the center of the courtyard, and he screamed and tried to huddle for protection. Upside down and in the air made it impossible, and Them were beginning to flicker as they were exposed to the sun. Them did not say a word, but he could feel their pain, and then a couple connections disappeared as they winked out of existence while the rest fled into the shadow he cast on the ground.

He cried out in loss, fought another few minutes to try to get out, but exhaustion won. He hung limply and quietly cried.

' _Sorry, Master. It hurts,'_ one said in his mind.

' _Don't cry for us, Beloved. Outside doesn't hurt for you, and we live only to serve you.'_

Voldemort and Barty watched the shadows seething under the boy. They tried to reach for him a few times, but they noticed that another faded away in a wispy black smoke before the dark ground settled. A glance around the area also showed more dementors gathering around the edges, but none interfered. Finally, the boy opened his eyes, flinched, then squinted to look around. When they landed on the human pair, they glared in hatred through the tears.

The Dark Lord smirked at the look. No horcrux of his was going to continue to have a blinding fear of something as simple as the sky.

"See? It's nothing," Voldemort explained as he stepped out himself. "The world is covered in the sky. It stays above even Azkaban. What is there to fear? It will never fall."

Hydrus huffed as the Dark Lord got closer to him, then twisted his body so he didn't have to look. He hated outside. It killed Them! It was warm here, but not as warm as the blankets he had gotten used to. The light was also making his head hurt, though not as bad as it used to as long as he squinted.

"This spell is a basic hex, Hydrus," the Dark Lord informed the boy's back impatiently. "Even a first year could cast it. Anyone could drag you out like this."

Hydrus felt a shiver crawl up his back, but he refused to reply.

"Do you want just anyone to always make you feel this way and get rid your shadows so easily?"

Hydrus lifted up an arm to cover his eyes. "Hurts," he said in response. An excuse.

"Are you saying it hurts outside? You are not a shadow, Hydrus, you are a boy."

"No. Eyes. Head. Light hurts."

Voldemort looked up into the sky and squinted at the sun overhead. He supposed it would be painful to a person who had been living in the dark all of their life to be so suddenly exposed. Another flick of his wand moved the hanging boy towards one of the shadowy walls, and he followed.

"Weakness gives people a way to hurt you, Hydrus," the Dark Lord lectured. "So I expect you to to come out here every day in the evening to start. When you can tolerate light better, you will take your lunches out here. I will not be giving people ways to hurt you, do you understand?"

When Hydrus gave a jerky nod, he lowered the boy to the ground. He immediately hugged the wall and quietly cried with relief. His eyes and face felt puffy and sore from all of the crying, and it made him hate it, but he couldn't help it. He never cried Below.

"Showing pain and fear is also a weakness, Hydrus."

He nodded again and used his hands to wipe his face while trying to calm himself. It took a few minutes to get under control, but when he did, he glared at the Dark Lord. He got a smirk of approval in return.

"Good. We'll head outside this evening when the sun is going down. Hate is much better than fear or love. Bellatrix should be awake before we go, so I'll reward you early by allowing you to choose her punishment, and then you can choose something you want in Diagon Alley."

AN: Thank you for all the reviews and support! Sorry this took longer than expected to publish, everything got super hectic. New doctors for the new year but at least I'm getting off the problem medication altogether now. Autoimmunes are not in remission but they aren't getting worse and being on it long term is extremely bad. Also - puppy training. My puppy got huge. Fast. He's 10 months old and hitting the 90lb range and is an extreme handful. However, he's coming along pretty will with the disability training and is already helping me to stand up (hence the need for a large dog) and I'm teaching him lumos currently to turn lights as well as the 'home' command to guide me back to the house. My older one (he's turning 9 this year so will need to retire from duties) is also learning lumos because he loves learning new tricks and was upset the pup was learning a trick he didn't know. He also knows AK, crucio, and confundus for spells and has many other commands, too. Yes, I pull out my elder wand regularly to kill or curse him and he gets a milky bone after haha. A milky bone is also a great wand replacement, too. Sorry, love my dogs... Dog rant is over haha.

Currently house hunting and will be visiting family in Japan all next month so I wanted to get this chapter out while I could. I do have two more chapters, but they need to be edited because one is almost 10k words and the other is only 2k. I'll be moving in June and it will take me several weeks to unpack with my disabilities so next update will probably come as late as July or August. Depends on if I get flareups from traveling and the stress of a move.

I know the dynamics with Bella has gone straight down the pipe. Hydrus is currently looking forward to having a mother that loves him because he grew up on stories from Them about how he liked to eat mother's love when he was a baby. The dementors didn't disagree at all and the story is from a child's point of view. I will do another time skip after the next 2 chapters with the visit to Diagon Alley and Bella's punishment. He's turning 6 in a couple weeks at this point in time, but I will not be doing his birthday nor the birthday for the next couple years - it will be a 9 year old Harry once this part of the arc is over unless you all want a filler chapter about how Snape teaches until Bella recovers. Let me know in the reviews if that's the case since I will have months to think it over and write it!

Oh, and I'm bored of disclaimers every chapter... everyone should know I don't have a fortune that follows Rowlings. Now you guys get snips of Ekrizdis's diary. Enjoy!


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